The Tyrant Grim
by XxSovereignofSilencexX
Summary: It's the Peaceful Pines Farewell to Summer Fair and Marcelyna is just dying to not attend. So instead, Beetlejuice takes her to the Neitherwolrd Fair and enters a contest to win best show for a cash prize. However, Scuzzo also entered with a few tricks up his sleeve. After some bad treatment and ill-spoken words, will Beetlejuice lose the competition and even worst...his friend?
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This is meant to be a sequel to the TV show. It's inspired by the recent rumors of a part 2 to the movie which is supposedly going to take place some twenty-odd years after the 1988 film. This follows the same pace, hence, it's set in or around 2012. Reviews are greatly appreciated and may influence how fast chapters are posted. Please enjoy.

**The Tyrant Grim**

**Chapter 1**

Gravel crunched under hard-soled boots, stirring up small bursts of dirt in to the warm summer breeze. The loud but dull thump of shoes echoed against the wooden planks down the length of the Winter River Bridge. After crossing through the old structure, the person continued down the path and walked down the dirt road to the small strip of stores at the start of town.

"So, which ones would you like?" The woman behind the flower stand asked.

The girl brushed her thick, long black hair over her shoulder and studied the small range of prime blooms in the stall's containers before pointing to the top corner row. "How much are those?"

"The solid carnations are twenty-five cents and the striped ones are forty."

She reached in to her jean pocket and pulled out a thin wad of dollars, counting through them with her thumb. "'Can I have a dozen red, and a dozen striped, please?"

The stall owner began picking out the red flowers. "You want them separate or together?"

"Together's fine." The girl replied grinding the toe of her red boot against a large dirt clod as the woman collected the flowers and placed them down at an angle on a large square sheet of paper, wrapping them up from the corner in to a bouquet and stretching a rubber band around the end.

"Here you go."

They traded with one another; the money for the flowers, before bidding farewell and wishing each other luck in enduring the August heat.

The young girl made her way back down the path she came from but took a detour before the bridge and followed the new route to a wrought iron arch with forged bars bent in to letters that read "Peaceful Pines Cemetery." She crossed through the entrance and stalked through the rows of graves with ease and precision whilst not stepping on the deceased - something that was no easy task, yet she accomplished it with little difficulty.

Singling out several individual headstones that seemed to have nothing more in common than age and neglect, the girl came down on one knee and pulled away some of the weeds that were becoming overgrown and wiped the dirt from the polished and engraved faces of stone with a white cloth pulled from her pocket. She stood back up and patted off the specks of soil and debris that had clung to her black tank top before pulling out one red and one magenta-striped carnation and delicately placed them over one another, centered just before the headstones.

After following the same ritual for nine of the graves around the cemetery, she hiked up the inclining hill to a large tree that rested on top; overlooking the entirety of the cemetery as though the small flock of chiseled markers belonged in its keep.

She put the bouquet with the remaining flowers down on the grass before sitting down in front of the tree, leaning her back against the thick, ridged bark of the trunk and removed her wide-brimmed cream-colored sun hat; waving it back and forth near her face as a makeshift fan. She wiped her hand against her forehead, lifting up the bangs that fully covered her right eye. Her hair felt like it was drying out though it was hard to tell; black sprigs like fishhooks curled out in multiple places throughout her mane and refused to be tamed no matter what kind of weather. Hopefully though, her delicate and pale white skin wouldn't burn. Letting out a sigh from the heat, the girl slumped further back in to the tree, fixing her hat back on her head and stretching her hands out to brush over the outgrown roots.

She felt her fingers get twined around a dry, dying vine until the entirety of her hand became entangled; almost as if it was trying to hold her within its wiry grasp. Looking down at the green and brown weed that trapped her hand, she tightened her fingers and gave a half-hearted tug, feeling resistance and, oddly enough, it felt like a tug back.

Finding herself grow curious, she stood up from her seated position, vine still in hand, and followed the coiling snake of branch to the opposing side of the tree. The clinging plant became taut once again, the end seeming to lead in to a partially sunken divot of earth at the base of the tree with a dried out bush lying within it. The thin brittle sticks protruded from the earth bent at different angles, reminding her greatly of a mass cluster of skeleton fingers clawing their way out of the ground. What really captured her attention though, was the rounded stone behind it.

"Is that a...headstone?"

Interest piqued past the point of ignoring, she untangled the vine from her hand and stepped down in to the depression. The toe of her boot dug under the dead bush, grounding out the surrounding dirt until she saw the stalk that connected the branches. Reaching out, her fingers grasped the base of the plant and pulled; feeling much more resistance than anticipated. Using both hands this time, she braced her feet in to the ground and yanked with all her might for several moments until finally, the dead bush was wrenched from the earth with so much force that she stumbled backwards and nearly fell over.

Holding the dried mass an arm's length away as dirt fell from its roots, she coughed from the dust she inhaled and wiped her watering eyes with the back of her free hand. After regaining her composure, she directed her attention to the single stone in front of the tree.

The solid block of rock was rounded at the top, but severely weathered with cracks and an uneven surface. A chunk looked to have been broken off from one of the corners and not even a single letter of scripture adorned the ruined face, making her wonder if there had ever even been any writing, and if it was even a grave.

Suddenly remembering the rough brittle plant still within her grasp, she held it up to eye level and examined the long dangling roots she had been wrangling with, only to notice something ensnared in the twisting and snarling knots. Having lost her patience fighting with it to try the slow process of detangling the object, she simply grasped the mass in her hand and ripped it out forcibly.

This time, the shrub protested by leaving a prickling sting in her hand as she removed the unknown object from its hold. Dropping the plant in frustrated retaliation - and with hidden joy of being done with the damn thing - she placed what she had retrieved delicately in to her opposite hand and observed her injured one, noting the small circular indents in her palm; some of which had little dots of blood forming. She wiped it against the leg of her jeans before returning to the thing in her hand; pulling away the stringy roots that still remained attached.

As it became more and more visible, her confusion only grew as to what exactly it was. She uncovered skeletal wing-like protrusions on either side (which she assumed was what had pricked her), connected to a flat skull with a spider emblem just beneath it. Attached to the spider's mouth was an elongated and very ornate rod with a flat notched and intricately patterned square extending out just before the end.

"A key...?" She wondered aloud, continuing to study the ominous object. Gently running the tip of her index finger down the center to wipe the dirt, she admired it's now revealed aged-bone color. Deciding to keep her newfound treasure, she grasped it carefully in her hand and went back to the front side of the tree, picking up what remained of the bouquet of flowers and putting them in place of the dead bush before making her way down the hill, through the rows, and out the cemetery gate.

Crossing through the enclosed bridge and up the dirt and gravel path to the single house at the top of the hill, the girl un-tucked her jeans and kicked her boots off at the front door, knowing the tongue lashing she'd get for tracking dirt on to the clean carpet and polished floors.

Opening the front door, she was greeted by the overwhelming smell of lemon pledge and fabric softener. Crossing through the kitchen she passed by the living room, noting the furniture draped with long white sheets. A man she knew very well to be her grandfather sat reading the newspaper in a covered arm chair as he did daily and in his own little world, even with the roaring sound of the vacuum cleaner. However, she knew it was a cover to disguise the fatty pastrami sandwich he was secretly eating that his wife would certainly snatch away and scold him about his cholesterol if she found out.

Deciding to leave him be, she made her way up the steps, following the black cord that ran up the length of the stairs.

"Marcelyna dear!" A voice yelled over the now dying cleaning appliance as it was switched off once the girl reached the top step. "How was your walk dear?"

"It was fine but it's starting to get really hot outside." She replied, removing her hat.

"Well at least that means the sheets will dry faster." The woman tapped a finger to her red lips while placing her other well-manicured hand on her hip. "Do you think you can help me move some stuff in to the attic?"

"Sure grandma Delia, just let me get my sneakers on." The girl answered, turning on her heel and walking away.

"Thank you dear." She ran her hand across the single grey streak in her orangey-red hair, momentarily dwelling on her age before hitting the switch of the vacuum to ON and humming a distracted tune as she made her way down the opposite end of the hallway.

Marcelyna opened the door at the end of the hall and entered her temporary room. Finding a spot on one of the tables covered with her grandmothers hand-made sculptures, she placed the key down before tossing her hat on the bed and grabbing her shoes from under it; scrunching her feet in to them. Making her way to the door, she grabbed a hair tie from her jeans and pulled her hair back, securing it in to a ponytail.

Just before exiting the room, her gaze fell to the key on the table.

Her grip tightened on the wooden door frame, feeling a sudden sense of apprehension worm its way through her.

Was she really meant to find it?

* * *

A cloud of dust erupted as a brown cardboard box was dropped carelessly to the floor.

"Phew," Delia brushed the back of her hand against her forehead. "I swear, the things Charles just has to keep. It's ridiculous! Boxes upon boxes of his stupid bird watching magazines. He only reads them once and then lets them pile up on the nightstand and his reading desk."

Marcelyna heaved a box on to a pile that was already nearly as tall as her. "Maybe he's keeping them for sentimental value?"

Her grandmother crossed her arms. "Hmph, he shows more love for a half-eaten cheeseburger but you don't see him hoarding those in the attic."

"No, just in his stomach when you're not looking." She joked, which seemed to only anger the older woman.

"He's probably stuffing his face right now instead of dusting..." Her grandmother grumbled. "Oh! And I still have to get dinner in the oven!"

"That's ok; I can finish moving a path in here myself." Marcelyna replied, using the weight of her body to shift a pile of boxes out of the way.

"Oh you are such a good girl!" Delia shouted enthusiastically. "Just make a way to that end over there. We'll sort the stuff out tomorrow, and maybe sneak some of Charles' junk out without him noticing..." She whispered under her breath on her way down the stairs.

For the next hour, the young girl moved and piled boxes and old furniture across the attic floor, wondering what on earth possessed them to keep so much stuff, and how the weight of it all didn't actually force the boards to collapse down in to the room below. Noticing the place getting darker as the sun started to set, she began to realize just how far in to the old attic she was. Deciding now would be a good time to hit the light switch, which, of course, was all the way back in the opposite direction; she attempted a short cut between the sections of furniture and regretted it instantly.

Unable to see the broken floor board that was uplifted, her foot became caught as she stumbled over it. Desperately trying to regain balance before falling on to the shadowed floor, her arm flailed to the side and caught on to a cloth-covered edge. Feeling her grip come loose from the pulled sheet, her other arm stretched as far as it could over the flat top; the force of her lunge causing her only means of support to screech against the floor and halt with a loud thump as it was pushed against whatever was behind it.

Taking a deep breath and trying to straighten herself from the awkward and uncomfortable position, she placed her palms flat against the table top and leaned against it for fear of falling down again. Regaining her composure and deeming it safe to attempt a step back, she took her hands away from the structure, only to shield her eyes as a sudden bright glint temporarily blinded her.

Ducking her head down to avoid the sudden light in her line of sight, she realized it was a dresser with a turn-able mirror that she had fallen in to. With the protective sheet now piled on the desk top, the reflecting glass was revealed and had been the cause of the flashing light. Moving to fix the mirror, as it was now at a slightly downward angle instead of straight, something else caught her attention.

There was a piece of paper sticking out from the bottom of the glass.

Bending over the wooden tabletop, she twisted her head to look under the mirror. There was a very thin opening between the glass itself and the backing that held it in place. Based on the way it looked, it had probably been loose enough for someone to have pulled back the two pieces and placed the thin paper between the panels, then pushed them back together unnoticed. At least, that's what she guessed.

Grasping it delicately between her thumb and index finger, she gently pulled the square of paper out and observed it. It was a greyed yellow and had jagged edges on one side as if it had been ripped out of a journal in haste. Other than that, it looked to have been perfectly preserved in the tight confines of space it had been in.

Unfolding it in her hand, she began to see curves and loops of what she assumed were words scrawled on to the sheet; though she couldn't make out what they were in the dim light. Holding it up in the direction of the window, she scarcely made out the first few words.

"_Though I know I should be wary, still I-"_

"Marcelyna?"

Her words were cut short at the call of her name and the sudden brightness of the light bulb that bounced off the mirror and made her squint her eyes.

"Dinner's ready and - oh, what are you doing all the way over there?" Delia asked, seeing her granddaughter trapped in a grouping of furniture.

The girl quickly turned around and dropped her hands behind her back, refolding the paper and tucking it in her back pocket; feeling, for some reason, the need to continue to keep it hidden.

"I, um, it started getting dark so I thought I'd take a short cut to the light over here, but I tripped over something and found this." She explained, motioning to the dresser.

The woman released the fixed chain attached to the light bulb and walked down the cleared path until she was next to her granddaughter, separated only by a few waist-high chairs.

"Oh, this was the dresser from your mother's room back when she was your age," Delia explained, beginning to reminisce at the sight of the gothic furniture.

Marcelyna took off the remaining sheet and looked over the purple wood, noting the spider web runner across the center and draping over either end. "Well, I bet this seriously clashed with the yellow drapes in the room."

Her grandmother sighed. "Lydia never appreciated my tastes for home decor. I wanted her room to be nice and bright but she insisted on all these dark tones and creepy crawly things and ugh." She shuddered with distaste. "I'm glad you're not like that."

She gave a small smile and laughed nervously. "Yeah..."

"Well anywho, dinner just came out of the oven so let's go downstairs."

* * *

Upon entering the kitchen, Marcelyna took a seat next to her grandfather who was already waiting and ready with a fork and a knife in each hand and a white napkin tied around his neck.

Delia walked to the counter and began cutting a small pot-roast in to slices. "So sweetheart, are you ready to go back to school? It's only a few weeks away."

"Yeah, I can't wait. I get an extended curfew this year and I'll have more opportunities to be in performances."

Her grandmother placed two plates with the meat, mashed potatoes and gravy, and mixed vegetables down in front of her and at her own seat.

"That sounds wonderful dear! Doesn't it honey?"

Charles looked on at the meal excitedly with his mouth watering, only to have his expression drop as a plate with very thin steamed carrots, asparagus and a very small, lean and skinless piece of chicken was set down in front of him.

Delia cleared her throat and repeated herself. "Doesn't it?"

"Y-yes..." He answered, shoulders slumping.

As they continued to eat dinner, Marcelyna decided to avoid bringing up the paper she had found, even though she wanted to ask if it was an early poetry piece her mother had written, but figured they probably wouldn't know anyway. That, and deep down, she didn't believe it was as simple as a piece of poetry either based on the way it was so expertly hidden.

"It's a great meal grandma Delia, but I'm full. May I be excused?"

Her grandmother smiled. "Of course dear, I'm glad you liked it."

Pushing back her chair, she stood up and thanked her before leaving the room and heading up the stairs.

In the meantime, Charles saw an opportunity and reached his fork out to claim the remaining slice of beef on his granddaughter's plate. Just as he began to smile triumphantly, the minute his fork stabbed in to the meat, the wooden spoon from the mashed potatoes struck the back of his hand instantly, making him drop the metal utensil and reel his hand back in pain.

"Charles! I told you to stop sneaking table scraps like some kind of animal or it'll be the death of you!" Delia scolded.

"Yes dear," he sighed in defeat while rubbing the back of his hand.

"I may be a grandmother, but I'm still WAY too young to be a widow!"

* * *

Marcelyna went to her room and closed the door behind her, rummaging through her suitcase for her set of tarot cards before grabbing the mysterious key from the table and moving to sit on the side of her bed; clearing the nightstand and pulling it out in front of her. Unwrapping the cards from their crimson cloth binding, she carefully shuffled the deck and cut them twice with her left hand, separating them in to three piles, before placing the last cut on the remaining stack. Delicately lifting a single card at a time, she laid each one down individually from left to right in a horseshoe shape of seven cards.

Taking a deep breath, she picked up the first card on the left and flipped it over, revealing the image of an upside down scale. "Justice?" She said aloud in confusion. "A past with a muddied truth resulting in an unfair sentence..."

She picked up the second card, showing a jester with a knapsack about to walk off a ledge with a dog biting at his heel. "The Fool is the question at hand...whether or not to go through with a risk..."

The third was a female figure wearing a crown with an infant in one arm. "The Empress...my mother is the hidden influence..."

Fourth was an upside down priest. "The Hierophant...others will use half-truths and distortions to mislead me..." She was becoming confused.

Fifth: An upside down woman with her hands near a lion's head. "I'll need strength for confrontation but must not back down or retreat."

Sixth: An upside down face split in half with a glowing flame in his hands. "The Magician will be my obstacle...but reversed, he's regarded as a trickster, so the question is whether to trust him or not..."

The seventh and final card was a flowing haired figure with wings blowing a long trumpet. "Judgment...the last and only chance to right the wrongs made."

Marcelyna fell back on to the bed and stared up in to the yellow canopy. Instead of putting her mind at ease, the reading only raised more questions. Picking up the key and holding it above her head, she studied the ominous object before sitting up and pulling the paper from her back pocket and unfolding it between her fingers, key still in hand. The room had grown too dark to read so she switched on the small portable light she had removed from the nightstand and looked over the parchment.

Black ink in messy print was scribbled in uneven lines, as if it was written in great haste. Looking over the scrawled words, she was glad they were still at least legible.

"_Though I know I should be wary, Still I venture someplace scary; Ghostly hauntings I turn loose; Beetlejuice, Be_-, -"

"_Beetlejuice_?" She repeated the odd word as the rest were cut off. But she assumed by the way the last word was started, it was meant to be a repetition of the second to last, and the dash after the comma was probably a third repeat. Hesitantly, and no louder than a whisper, she said it.

"_Beetlejuice_."

An overbearing silence filled the room as everything became deathly still. The small light flickered haphazardly before suddenly dying out. She picked it up and gave it a shake. "Did the batteries die-?"

The windows instantly burst open as a cold breeze swept through the room. Marcelyna jumped up in alarm and quickly made her way around the bed to the shuttering glass panes. "What the hel - Ah!" She took a frightened step back at the violent tearing sound that echoed in her ears. The wallpaper around the room was literally being shredded from the walls by an invisible force.

Unable to process clearly what was happening, she did the one thing she could do: Run for the door.

Reaching her hand out to the doorknob for salvation, it was literally ripped from her as the door was rendered from its hinges and the gale of wind came from behind her at full force; blowing her hair over the top of her head and face, while sending the contents of the room flying through the threshold in to a black void.

She desperately tried to keep her now loose hair from blocking her vision as the sound of splintering and creaking wood forced her to look up just in time to see the ceiling of the room broken off the foundation and lift up until it could no longer be seen. She dropped to her knees and covered her hands over her head as long wooden beams shot out from the elongated walls above her; and she could've sworn she heard the sound of fluttering and screeching bats.

As quickly as it happened, it stopped, leaving a cold chill in the air and the echoing of brief flapping noises. Mustering her courage, she slowly lowered her hands and placed one to nervously twitch on the solid ground while the other brushed her hair back enough to see from one eye.

The room was very dim but still lit enough to view her surroundings thanks to a single high window from somewhere above. There was a small step way a few feet in front of her with curved supports holding up a torn and greyed canopy faintly reminiscent of her bed.

Standing up slowly, she grasped her elbows with each hand only to look down in surprise at the feeling of cloth when it should have been bare skin. Her arms were covered in long black gloves that stretched up just a few inches below her shoulders. Not only were the gloves new, she now wore a sleeveless, form-fitting, red dress with a heart shaped neckline that curled on either side at the top segment where her arms met her body. The garment itself had black spider web detailing and hugged over her thighs which dawned black tights that matched the gloves. Red boots reaching just below her knees with spider webs starting at the heel and stretching up and across the lacquered leather covered her feet; matching the same pattern as the dress.

Filled with dreadful unease at her mysterious wardrobe change, Marcelyna went back to clutching her now clothed arms as she turned around in a slow circle. The walls were blue-hued and bricked with chips and cracks in various places. Ripped and tattered veiling draped down from the variously angled beams across the ceiling where several bats hung upside down. There was a small door high up in the room and a stone staircase curving down from the rounded wall. It was then that she realized she was standing in the center of a jagged spiral that swirled out on the floor and ended at the first step.

Dragging a hesitant step forward, a clinking sound rang out from below; halting her movement. Her gaze dropped to the ground where she saw the skeleton key skid a few inches across the floor. Bending down to pick it up, she wondered when she dropped it and how it managed not to get swept away like everything else in the room. Looking up the tall stairway to the door, she realized it was her only option if she wanted to try and get out of the room. Clutching the key in hand, she was glad when she discovered a hidden pocket in the side of her dress to slip the troublesome object in to before climbing the steps.

The clicking of her heels echoed on the flat stone surfaces, stirring the bats above, but she kept forward to the gothic paneled, burgundy-purple door. Reaching out her hand hesitantly, she grasped the rusted knob and twisted, expecting it to have been locked.

The turning of old gears resounded through the room and surprising enough…

The door opened.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I want to apologize in advance for the horrible French accent I wrote for when Jacques and Jenaviéve are speaking. I've never written with accents before, but at least it's still understandable so that's somewhat of an accomplishment. I'd like to thank RunningFromLove for being the first to review, the four followers this story has so far, and anyone else who's reading this. It does help inspire and motivate me to continue writing and posting. Please enjoy.

**The Tyrant Grim**

**Chapter 2**

The handle was stiff and turned somewhat reluctantly, letting out a high-pitched screak as if warning her; asking if she was sure she wanted to do this. With a click, the sound stopped and she could turn it no further. Giving a push, the door gave her more resistance and dust began to flurry out from the sides as if it hadn't been open for years. Using a little more force, the rusted iron hinges began to creak loudly as the door finally yielded; slowly swinging ajar until it was completely open.

Looking through, she couldn't see much; only a yellow haze that clung in the sky. Ducking her head under the short door, she poked her head through the threshold and couldn't believe what she was seeing. A twisting and turning road connected to no direct land mass whatsoever, stretched for miles with what looked like a grouping of buildings and lights in the distance. The sky was tinged a sallow yellow with orange streaks and she could make out spiked purple peaks protruding from the clouds below the roads.

"I-I have to be dreaming...I must've knocked myself out when I fell in the attic, or-or even at the cemetery..." She tried to reason with herself as she went to step down from the threshold. Ironically, becoming too focused on rationalizing her current state, she didn't realize there was no immediate ground outside the door and lost her footing, landing flat on the hard road a foot lower than anticipated.

She gave a frustrated cry, surprised from the pain she felt upon impact, but decided that maybe, if she stayed down long enough, she'd wake up and be back in the cemetery, or attic, or perhaps even her room if she was lucky.

After several long moments of remaining unmoving on the hard ground, she could've sworn she heard the sound of footsteps approaching and then abruptly stop. Something hard and bony suddenly poked her in the side followed by the sound of a feminine voice.

"What iz et z'at yoo are dooing on ze ground?"

The accent was definitely French without a doubt, and sounded like a little girl. Picking up her head and inching over to her side, her eyes widened and mouth almost dropped. It was a little girl, only, without any skin or hair or anything that _constituted_ a typical little girl. Quite literally, she was only the frame of a little girl.

A _skeleton_.

She stood over Marcelyna, somewhere between two and three feet high, with a black bow on the top left side of her head with two decaying fuchsia flowers in the center and wore a short puffed sleeved, black dress patterned with grey swirls and white lace trimming on the sleeves, collar and hem.

"Are yoo trying to bee buried in ze dirt, b'cuz I don't t'ink yoo are dooing et right."

Marcelyna just stared up at the girl, speechless.

She suddenly became excited and clapped the little bones of her hands together. "Oh! Oh! Are yoo playing 'ide and go zeek? I wuz playingz w'it ze boy acrosz ze street but 'ee always takes too long too find me. Wood yoo like too play too?"

Still confused beyond all sense of the word, she stood up shakily and looked down at the skeleton girl that just barely came up past her knees.

"My name iz Jenaviéve, but yoo can call me Jenny." The little girl spoke, looking up at her happily. "What iz your name?"

"Mar...Marcelyna..."

She reached her little arm up and grasped her gloved hand, tugging her along the road. "Let'z go play et my 'ouz! We'll 'ave so much fun and play all my favor-it gamez!"

Marcelyna wasn't paying nearly as much attention to the girl as she was to her surroundings, thinking to herself that this was the most creative thing she had ever imagined.

_And_ the most realistic.

"Thiz iz my 'ouse." Jenny suddenly spoke. Marcelyna stopped and looked forward, seeing an odd and misshapen structure. The sign had a B hanging upside down on the bottom hinge and a crooked J with an ''s'. The word 'Roadhouse' was written underneath in capital letters. "Come thiz way!" The little girl pulled her through doorway in to the interior which was even stranger than the exterior with its mismatched, oddly patterned and colored walls.

"Miz Ginger livez in z'at side of ze 'ouz," she pointed to the left doorway, "and I live ov're 'ere."

"Who's BJ?" Marcelyna asked before she even realized she was speaking. "I mean, it's the name outside..." Was it a coincidence that the initials would match the name on the paper she had read? It was clearly something about the name that had caused all this; but either way, why should she care? This was nothing more than a dream.

Right?

"Oh, 'ee doz not live 'ere, Pa-pa zaid 'ee iz under 'ouz arrezt."

She raised a questioning brow. "House arrest..?"

"Jenaviéve, iz zat yoo? I thought yoo were play-ing acrosz ze street?" A French male voice called from up the stairs accompanied by footsteps.

"I wuz but ze boi didn't findz me again s'zo I foundz a pretty grrl to play w'it inz'stead."

"A girrl?" The owner of the footsteps halted just as he came in to view.

Another _skeleton_. Though not as surprised as she was upon seeing Jenny, Marcelyna was still stunned to see the tall skeletal man wearing a red beret and blue shirt with orange-red shorts, holding a small dumbbell in his hand.

He seemed as stunned as she was if not more, letting the weight fall from his hand and nearly crash through the steps as he looked her up and down, uttering one of the last words she expected to hear.

"Lydia?"

Jenny looked back and forth between her father and her new friend, breaking the long and questioning silence. "'Er name iz Marcelyna Pa-pa, I found 'er on ze road by ze little door zat doezn't open."

The skeleton took a few more steps down, "Yoo came from up zere zrou ze door?" He asked incredulously.

Marcelyna became nervous and stuttered. "I...w-well I, um, I don't know how-"

"What was that awful crashing noise? Is everyone okay down there?" A shrill feminine voice with a Brooklyn accent called from above, interrupting her meek mumbling. Just as she looked up, she let out a gasp and jumped back as a deep rosy pink spider the size of a football dropped down from a string on the ceiling to eye level an inch from her face.

"Ooh! A guest!...Say, you look kinda familiar..." The spider propped up several of her elbows and scratched her chin, noting the girl's red and black webbed dress and dark hair.

Marcelyna took a few more hesitant steps back from the bizarre talking arachnid only to hear another voice, this one loud and booming with a southern drawl.

"Sorry my son ditched your d'aughter again Jacques. Just reckon'd I'd make sure she got home this time. Oh, begg'n yer pardon Miss," He spoke as she backed in to him before quickly turning around and staring up at the tall brown hairy monster with nothing more than a mouth on his features, wearing a blue cowboy hat and gloves. A smaller version of the creature minus the western attire stood to the side behind him.

"Say, haven't I seen you somewhere before?" The tall monster asked, taking his hat off and scratching his head.

"That's what I said," the spider agreed still hanging from the ceiling and making Marcelyna turn back around. She was trapped now from every side between the arachnid in front, the tall skeleton named Jacques who had moved down the stairs to her right, the two monsters behind her at the entrance and Jenny on her left.

"Sze looks like Lydia," the skeleton spoke, sounding almost certain.

"Lydia?" Ginger repeated, now seeing the resemblance. "Miss Lydia?" the Monster resounded, seeing it too.

The little skeleton girl came forward to stand next to her. "I told yoo Pa-pa, 'er name iz Marcelyna. Sze iz going too play w'it me."

"How did she get here?" The spider asked, jumping to the floor and beginning to circle her speculatively.

"Ze door down ze road." Jenny repeated, voice showing signs of agitation.

"Well how in tarnation's is that possible?" The monster asked dubiously.

"Yeah, I mean, the door to the living's been locked for twenty years." Ginger stated, shrugging.

Marcelyna shook her head and put her hands up in a gesture, trying to understand what they were talking about. "Wait, what do you mean 'door to the living'? This is just a dream. I'm in a-a crazy, coma-induced dream world from knocking myself out. That's it!"

The three adults looked at each other nervously before turning back to her. "T'ziz iz not a dream mademoiselle. It iz ze Neitherworld. If Viéve iz right, zat door led yoo from ze world of ze living to 'ere. T'ziz place iz, 'ow wood yoo zay, ze 'after' life."

The girl shrank back, body trembling as she clutched her arms. "B-but I'm not- I-I can't be...how did I... I'm not dead!" She pulled the black glove down and jabbed her left arm out. "Look! I have flesh and-and a pulse, and-" she put two fingers from her opposite hand up to her neck to feel for herself, then placed the hand over her chest, feeling the rapid beating, "and my heart's beating! I'm alive!"

The little monster came forward and grabbed her outstretched arm, giving it a squeeze. "It's soft and tender Pa, like it's really fresh!" He lowered her arm to his mouth and looked ready to take a bite when his father hit him right on the top of his head and yanked him away; Marcelyna doing the same with her arm and pulling the glove back up.

"What in tarhooties are ya doin' boy! Show some manners in front of a lady!"

"Ow! Sorry..." He replied while rubbing the now sore spot.

"Look, I was in my grandparents' attic and bumped in to my mom's old dresser and found this note in the mirror. I took it to my room and read it out loud and next thing I know, the window bursts open, the wallpaper gets shredded, everything goes flying out the door, my ceiling comes off, beams shoot out of the walls and bats are flying everywhere. When I look up, everything's changed, I'm wearing this, and there's a staircase with a little door. I climb up, walk through, and fall out and next thing I know, this little skeleton girl is poking me and taking me to her house to play hide and seek." Marcelyna explained in the calmest hysterical tone she could, realizing how crazy it still sounded. "Oh, I sound as crazy as Cousin Arnold, and he only saw vampire-toothed golden ducks stealing ketchup and wearing people's socks on their heads!"

Jenny erupted in a fit of giggles. "She's funny Pa-pa."

"A note yoo zay?"

Marcelyna nodded her head. "I must have lost it in that crazy wind but nothing happened until I said the last word three times. Beetle, um, Beetle-"

"Beetlejuice!" They shouted in unison.

"Yeah...who or, '_what_' exactly is that? Jenny said something about house arrest?"

The three once again exchanged nervous looks before the monster ushered the two children out. "Go play across the street. Tell Ma I'll be back later."

Jacques cleared his throat. "Be-atlejoose waz a cloze friend of ourz and lived in ziz roadhouze. We don't talk about it, but 'e did zomething very...bad, and az a rezult, ze door to ze living world waz clozed and hazn't veen opened zinz."

She mulled it over in her head but something still didn't click. "But...how do you know my mother?"

"Yoor motder?"

"Lydia...Lydia Deetz."

Ginger gasped, closing all of her hands over her mouth. "You're Lydia's d'aughter? No wonder you look so similar!"

"Lydia yoozed to come to ze Neitherworld zrou ze door by zaying Be-atlejoose's name zree times," he held up three digits in explanation, "but after ze inzident...we never zaw 'er again..."

Marcelyna let out a withheld breath. "This...this doesn't make any _sense_. I mean...what am I supposed to do now? How do I get back to my world?"

"It yoosed to be sze wood zay Be-atlejoose's name zree timez to go back and for't but I don't t'ink zat will work wit'out 'im 'ere. I'm ztill sur-pirzed yoo came 'ere on yoor own..."

"I reckon ya could try the door. If it opened for ya to come in, maybe it'll open ta go out." The Monster suggested.

"And what if it doesn't?" The human girl asked. "Would this Beetlejuice guy know how to get me back?"

"It's worth a shot. What do you think Jacques? It wouldn't hurt to try." The female spider reasoned.

The skeleton thought it over. "It wood ve our vest chance. We could take Doomie to get zere."

"Doomie?" Marcelyna repeated as they led her out the door and around the back.

"Be-atlejoose's Dragzter of Doom." The skeleton man said as he walked ahead to a large dusty white tarp that appeared to be snoring. He pulled the material off, revealing a dull lime-green colored convertible sleeping soundly. Jacques kneeled down and gently tapped on the door while talking in to the side mirror. "Doomie, wake up, we 'ave zomewhere ver-ee important to go."

To her amazement, the car's headlights began to blink and the bumper opened up in a yawn before smiling at the sight of the skeleton and beeping it's horn excitedly. The other two moved forward and jumped in to the car while she stood there flabbergasted.

"Doomie, zis is Marcelyna, sze iz a friend. Marcelyna, zis iz Doomie." Jacques introduced them to one another.

Ginger crawled up on to the dashboard. "Don't worry, he's a real sweetheart, aren't you Doomie?" The spider scratched the top edge of the driver door, getting a pleasured beep from the car as it started whirring and shaking its back tire, reminding her greatly of a dog.

Giving a nervous smile, she walked around the front of the car, patting the hood lightly and hearing the engine purr as she did so. Upon making it to the passenger side, the door opened itself, allowing her in, and then closed.

"Alright Doomie, let uz go to ze doorway to ze living!" Jacques called from behind the driver's seat.

With a few beeps of understanding, the car revved up its wheels before launching itself out of the backyard and up the twisting and turning purple road to the door she had come from.

* * *

"Uuhh! Nngh...it won't-ngh-open..." Ginger gritted her teeth as she twisted and pulled the knob with all the strength she could muster in her eight legs. Putting too much strain, she lost her grip and fell to the ground, rubbing her head. "It's stuck."

The Monster jumped out of the car and pretended to roll his sleeves up as he approached the door. "Le'me have a go at it." Spitting in to his hands and rubbing them together, he grasped the knob with both hands and pulled, eventually propping a foot on the door to try and break it off but to no avail. Growing frustrated, the monster took a few steps back before running forward and ramming himself in to the door, only to fall down to the ground, seeing stars. "Uuooohhh..."

"Per-'apz if we 'ad a key or zomet'ing?" Jacques suggested, leaning against the passenger door.

Hearing his words, Marcelyna remembered the key from the cemetery and reached for it in her pocket just as Ginger began to speak.

"No, there isn't a keyhole on this door." She retorted, pointing at the solid wood.

Becoming sullen, she let her gloved hand drop from her pocket and sighed. "So I guess now we go to plan B?"

"Quite litter-a-lee, yez, we szall go zee Be-atlejoose at 'ouz a'rrezt." Jacques replied as they all hopped back in to the dragster and sped off down the road.

* * *

"I thought 'house arrest' meant you just can't leave your house so shouldn't he be at the roadhouse if he lived there?" Marcelyna asked over the roaring engine.

"Thingz are ver-ee diffrant 'ere in ze Neitherworld. Be-ing undur 'ouz a'rrezt, meanz reely being undur 'ouz a'rrezt."

Marcelyna quirked an eyebrow, still not understanding. "What?"

The skeleton pointed forward and she followed his directive, dropping her head down as her eyes widened in surprise. "Oh..."

Just around the corner of the curving road up ahead was an enormous, tall and slanted house propped up on what looked to be a clawed arm with a pair of bright-green horizontal crescent windows pointed down that greatly resembled closed eyes and a closed mouth baring tightly packed fang-like teeth for a door. Now she understood the pun as the entire structure seemed to be resting.

Coming to a stop at the rusted and bent gate, the group exited the sentient car and walked up to the closed mouth. "Pardoname'! 'Ello monsieur!" Jacques called up to the giant house. Blinking sleepily, the structure stretched to the side without moving its arm and shifted its eyes down to look at them. "We 'ave some buzi-nezz to attend to inzide! Can yoo pleaze let uz in?"

The house closed its eyes in a long blink before the long fangs began to lift and part as it let out a rumbling yawn, revealing a glowing green light and a jagged black swirl spiraling out along the walls and ceiling in the interior. Stepping on to the polished linoleum floor as the sharp teeth came back down behind them, they began their descent down the long hallway until the reached the end of the spiral where a tall desk stood in between two slanted, pillared doorways. A small, oozing green, toad-like figure wearing red was hunched over next to a large pile of papers while he scribbled on something down in front of him.

"Do you have an appointment?" The figure asked without looking up.

"Um, no, we are juzt 'ere to vizit-"

"There are no visiting hours, only appointments, and if you don't have one, then leave."

The four looked at one another before huddling together and whispering.

"What do we do now?" Ginger asked.

"I say we have ourselves a showdown and force our way through." The Monster suggested, slamming his fist in to his open palm.

"Marcelyna, virzt chanz yoo get, go down ze right hall, and go to ze very bottom. Be-atlejoose iz zuppozed to ve down zere. We'll diztract 'im." Jacques explained, motioning to the little creature above.

"Zir, yoo mizunderztand. We are 'ere to vizit yoo."

The green imp looked up from the papers, stretching himself over the desk to look down at the group. "Me? Who exactly are you?" He asked, adjusting his jagged, black-wire glasses.

"Are yoo tired or ou'verworked? Feeling bored out of yoor skull?" Jacques asked, pulling off his own head.

The creature sat back and twiddled his thumbs in thought. "Well yes, I've been stuck behind this desk in this awful place since before the plague."

"Z'en fret no more, we are 'ere to entertain yoo! We are part of 'Ze Bone-Jinglez Jambor-ee'." Jacques began juggling his head, adding in his foot and leg bones as he hopped on the other while the Monster pulled out a banjo and began playing as Ginger tap danced to the tune. Marcelyna, who had been hiding by the corner of the desk, waited until the receptionist began clapping, attention now fully drawn to their show, before turning around and hurrying through the right door and down the hall. Her fast pace was soon slowed to a walk as the floor became curved in waves, jutting sometimes over to the right, and sometimes to the left, like a slithering, uneven, black and white checkered-patterned snake. All she could see ahead were the slanted edges of the segmented walls that extended out slightly; separating equally strange and misshapen closed doors. Finally coming to the end of the long hall, she stopped to stare up at the sign above the dark opening that read:

"Neitherworld Maximum Holding Vault" With the words, "WARNING: EXTREME NECROHAZARD! Authorized personnel ONLY!" written underneath.

Feeling a sudden chill, she stepped through the dark threshold and looked down. Her stomach fell at the sight of the sheer drop in to a rift she couldn't even see the bottom of. The only thing in her view was a very unsafe looking swirling staircase without any railing that stretched hundreds of feet down in to a glowing green fog.

What had she gotten herself into?

Taking a deep breath of the thick and musty air, she carefully took the first step on to the staircase and began the frightening descent down. Eventually, it became brighter as the green fog enveloped the black steps, but it only heightened her anxiety level for now the stairs broke away from the wall and she feared now missing a step, or falling off the side and plummeting to her death.

After what felt like hours of walking down the spiral, she swore she could finally see the end at the bottom. Moving a little faster now, she stopped at the last visual step, looking around and seeing an almost even layer of green smoke covering the circular confines of the room. Kneeling down on the step, she carefully reached her hand through the fog until she felt a hard base. Certain of the floor now, she stood back up and stepped down, looking ahead at a tall slanted opening with black jagged points aiming to the floor; almost threatening to fall on anyone who dared to pass through.

Having already come this far, Marcelyna hurried through the threshold and walked down the short, greyish-white striped hall, stopping short at the ledge at the end where there was yet another sheer drop. This one however, wasn't as deep as she peered down and saw what appeared to be...sand? Surveying the rest of the room, she noted the tall surrounding walls of the circular room were padded grey, cut off at the same level as the hall with blackness surrounding the rest of the way down below.

Across the way was a circular rock structure fixed on an alarmingly skinny and jagged rock neck that made her wonder how on earth it could support it. Then again, this probably WASN'T part of earth anyway. The flat, round surface was covered over in sterile white flooring with a single structure dead center. It looked like some kind of giant vault-styled coffin covered over in gear-like mechanisms with a large spoked wheel and heavy metal chains criss-crossing over the mass to hold it down. The chains ran through metal circle-screws imbedded in the floor, stretching taught above in to a pulley system high up in the ceiling. The only way to get across was by walking over a strange black and white-striped cylindrical bridge connecting the end of the hall to the rock platform.

Steeling her will, Marcelyna carefully balanced herself on the sloping surface and crossed over; stepping up on to polished tiles with a click of her heels. Exhaling a long withheld breath, she made her way to the iron coffin-shaped vault.

"Hello?" She called out.

Not hearing anything, she came closer and knocked on a flat patch in between the many gears and chains.

"Hello?" She repeated, once again without gaining a response.

"Beetlejuice?" She tried his name, remembering what Jacques had said. "Beetlejuice...Beetlejuice!" Her voice rang off from yelling the last one, but no other sound was made.

Growing past the point of holding it together, she let out a frustrated cry and lashed out at the giant vault; pounding her fists against the mechanisms and links until her hands were sore, still yelling the name. "Beetlejuice! Beetlejuice! BEETLEJUICE!" With one last scream, she slammed both fists against the still un-breached door and pressed her forehead against the cold metal, huffing in exhaustion. The chill felt good against her fevered skin as she calmed down, but it also brought her to painful awareness of the stinging ache in her hands. Loosening her clenched fists, she stretched out and flexed the sore digits, before pausing, feeling something bar-shaped against her right palm. Pulling away from the iron mass, she eyed the protrusion, recognizing it as one of the individual spokes of the large wheel.

Of course it didn't budge even a little as she tried to turn it but, with her being this close, she noticed a tiny little slit in the ornate center of the wheel. Rubbing her finger over the barely noticeable opening, her mind suddenly flashed back to the cemetery as she held the key in her hand, running her finger over the flat, notched and intricately patterned square extending out just before the end of the rod it was attached to.

Marcelyna reached in to her dress pocket and pulled out the object, holding it up in front of her. "Maybe it really is a key..." She angled it sideways and slipped it in to the crack, hesitating before turning it. _'Should I really do this_?' A voice in her head spoke. But what if it was the only way to get home?

"It's the only chance I have..." She told herself to instill some confidence; turning the key and hearing a loud CHINK from within the vault. Several more resounding metal clinks echoed out, followed by a loud popping as dust was expelled from the twisting gears as they unlocked themselves. Marcelyna quickly removed the key before the large spoked wheel began turning at an increasing speed; the pulley system above screeched loudly as the chains came swinging loose, making her duck and fall to the ground from nearly getting lashed as they clanked on the floor.

Once the gears and wheel came a stop, another eruption of dust and stale air came out from the three sides of the vault as the door creaked open. A figure shot out and up in to the air like a rocket, the dust flying with him as he cackled loudly.

"A-HA-HA-HA! SA-WHEAT FREEDOM AT LAST! HA-HA!" The man turned in to a literal stalk of wheat and gently floated down, turning back as he landed hovering horizontally on the roof of the vault, kicking his legs as he continued to laugh hysterically. As if suddenly remembering something, he cut his rejoicing short and straightened himself in to a vertical slouch, looking down at the familiar red-clad figure with black hair covering her face.

"BABES!" He rapidly flew towards her and scooped her up from the floor in to a tight embrace as he spiraled back up in to the air. "I knew ya'd find a way to bust me out!"

Marcelyna quickly found herself suffocated by a grimy purple dress shirt and the overall smell of putrefying mold and rot. The sickening sense of vertigo began to set in and instead of clutching to his shoulders for dear life, she threw her hands out and tried to push him away. "Let me go! NOW!"

Face contorting in confusion, the man shrugged. "Sure Babes..." The action caused him to completely lose grasp of her and she plummeted to the ground, letting out a scream as she went down. Just before hitting the hard floor, she was stopped in mid-air as the trickster caught her in his arms and studied her intensely. "Hey...you're not Lyds..."

The girl forced herself out of his grasp and stumbled back. "No, I'm not! My name is Marcelyna!" She looked over the black and white suited, purple-skinned, light blonde and unkempt-haired man and he seemed to be doing the same to her. He was the one to speak first, voice low and eyes burning with rage:

"You...You're an IMPOSTER!" He pointed a threatening red-tipped finger at her. "A fake! FREUD!" The man suddenly shape-shifted in to Sigmund Freud as he yelled at her.

Marcelyna squinted as the force of his voice actually blew her hair back and the smell of his rancid breath made her wrinkle her nose as he continued. "What did ya do with her huh? You Sphacks got her locked up in one of these vaults too cuz I swear I'll juice the living dead right outta ya!"

Once he was done she balled her hands in to fists at her sides and took a challenging step forward. "Look, I'm not a 'sphack' or whatever! I'm her damn daughter! Now are you Beetlejuice or not, because I really would like to get out of here and back to Earth or the living world, or whatever you call it!"

The ghost's expression went slack. "Daughter...?"

Just as he opened his mouth to comment, a tremor suddenly shook the circular platform. A sharp sound of screeching metal followed by a loud locking sound rang out from behind. Turning around, Marcelyna saw the doorway she had come from was now closed and noticed the striped bridge move; disconnecting from the base they were standing on and disappearing in to the opposite side with the flick of a snake's tail. The sound of shifting grain made her peer over the edge to see the sand uplifting in a trail as something moved underneath it.

"What is that?" Taking a step back, she turned to Beetlejuice, only to find him trembling all over and looking ready to jump out of his skin. A loud rumbling from behind almost made her lose her footing, and without warning, a giant snake-like creature burst out from the sand, arching it's monochrome body in to an "S" as it towered over them; red eyes blazing. It's green lips parted and a second, more vicious looking white and red-spotted head came out, black slits narrowed in yellow eyes and razor-sharp fangs bared as it growled.

"IT'S SANDWORM-ZILLA!" She heard the frightened ghost scream dramatically from behind her as the creature opened its jaws and struck, crashing in to the tiled floor as they jumped out of the way. Marcelyna skidded just before the ledge and gripped it tightly at the sudden jolting movement. A sharp cracking sound made her look over her shoulder to see a section of the platform split and break apart, sending the chunk of rock down with her on it.

Crashing in to a sand dune, Marcelyna lost her grip and rolled down in to the sand, getting the wind knocked out of her as she collided with the tail of the sandworm. Wiping the grains from her eyes, the ghost's shrill screams made her look up to see him holding up the creature's jaw as its tongue was wrapped around his waist, trying to pull him in to its mouth. Quickly forcing herself to stand, she began furiously kicking the striped tail with her red boot, doing little, if any, damage.

Becoming annoyed by her feeble attempt, the sandworm coiled its tail around her and lifted her in to the air to glare at her from the corner of its eye, emitting a low snarl as it still tried to swallow the unrelenting poltergeist.

Giving a few agitated cries of her own she managed to wriggle her arms loose. "I've had it with-ngh-being tossed and-aahh! - thrown around and-argh- dropped!" Reeling her arm back, she clenched her fist and grit her teeth. "And I'm not getting eaten by a giant worm too!" Releasing the tension in her arm, she launched it forward, nailing the beast square in the eye.

Letting out a series of yelps, the sandworm's tongue loosened enough for Beetlejuice to fly out of its mouth and at the same time, it released Marcelyna to fall from its tail. Luckily this time, she only plummeted briefly as the ghost caught her and flew to set her down on what remained of the platform. "I can't believe you punched a sandworm!"

"Neither can I," she replied, regaining her balance, "but I definitely wouldn't say it was a knockout..." Her voice shrank as the snake-like creature writhed in pain before rearing its head back at the two. "How do we get out?"

"UWWAAHH!" The ghost threw his hands up in the air and turned tail -literally- to run. "I'M GOING BACK TO THE VAULT!"

Oddly amused by the punned transformation, even though their lives were on the line; - hers at least - she grabbed the black-ringed, orange tail before it could make its mad dash. "Wait! The vault!"

He turned back to normal so she was now holding him by the back of his striped jacket. "That's what I said! Nothing can bust that thing so I'm hiding in there!"

"No!" She pointed up to the pulley system of chains attached to the ceiling. "We can break through using the vault! Can you distract that thing?"

"Are you crazy? That thing'll chew me in to little bits!" He screeched, beginning to break apart in to tiny squares that barely retained form.

Marcelyna, unsure of what to do, began trying to mesh and mold the pieces back together. "Please! I have a plan and it'll only work if you help!"

Taking a gulp, Beetlejuice turned to face the monster worm as the girl ran somewhere behind the vault. "Uh...s-so how's the weather up there?"

The sandworm snapped at him, effectively making the ghost dodge to the side and become cornered, trembling all over and biting the constantly re-growing nails off his fingers. "YYAAAAHHHH!" he hollered as the creature lunged forward, ready to swallow him whole.

The rattling of metal could be heard and a wad of chains swung right in front of the worm, making it close its mouth on the links and dive down in the sand, pulling the chains with it. Becoming taught from the force, the lever on the pulley system broke and continued spinning, ripping out the circle-headed screws from the floor and launching the large iron vault in to the air. Marcelyna had jumped off of the structure after throwing the loose chains, now rushing over to the frozen ghost. "Are you okay?"

Beetlejuice whirled around and jumped in to her arms, blonde hair longer and now wearing a pink dress with a matching cone-shaped princess hat. "My hero!" He cooed in a horribly fake female voice, batting his long eyelashes and puckering his overly red colored lips.

Marcelyna laughed nervously and arched her head away. "Um...no..."

"Well, I never!" He feigned offense in a woman's tone before shrugging, voice back to normal. "Eh, your loss." In a poof of smoke, he was now standing next to her and readjusting his black tie.

By now, the vault had crashed through the ceiling, sending pieces of debris falling to the ground. The chains suddenly came loose once again as the sandworm let the links go and resurfaced. Not realizing what it had done, the unbalanced weight forced the vault to come back down, slamming in to the creature's head.

Beetlejuice laughed maniacally. "Boy kid, you sure know how to bring the house down, HA HA!" Wrapping an arm around her waist, he flew up in to the air and out the opening in the ceiling. "The King has left the building, huh, huh," he spoke as he crossed through, doing an Elvis impression before setting her down on the floor.

"Be-atlejoose?" The French voice drew their attention, just now realizing they were in the main entrance hall, surrounded by a ring of transparently veiled and hooded beings, tinged a sallow, dusty-brown color.

Jacques, Ginger and the Monster were clapped in irons and standing off to the side, guarded by two more of the figures.

They were trapped.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Not much to say, but after this chapter the tone will be less serious. Thank you to everyone who keeps reading; I would greatly appreciate some feedback. Please enjoy.

**The Tyrant Grim**

**Chapter 3**

Numerous transparently veiled and hooded beings, tinged a sallow, dusty color with black shadowed faces bearing no features whatsoever floated in tightly packed, layered rings; surrounding them in the main hall with no means of escape.

"Uh-Oh...it's the Sphacks," Beetlejuice whispered to her, though it was still loud enough for everyone to hear the insulting term.

"The what?" She asked, voice much lower than his had been.

"Specter guards. Ya know, like, high maintenance hacks in a jail house."

"So what do we do?" Marcelyna asked, taking a step back from the menacing creatures that began to close in.

"I don't know about you, but I'm going to make bale." The ghost replied with a sinister tone. The girl looked at him in confusion, only to see him turn in to a square bale of hay that began to grow bigger, and bigger, and bigger, becoming tightly packed in the room until it exploded; hay spilling out everywhere.

The interior became so full, the house was forced to open its mouth; vomiting hay out on to the drive. Amongst the individuals swept out in the wave of grain fibers, Marcelyna was one of them, washing out flat on the pavement.

The ringing of a car horn made her look up to see she had landed right before Doomie who looked down at her with concerned headlights and beeped again as if asking if she was alright. Using the edge of the door to help her stand, she rubbed her sore head before shutting her eyes painfully as a loud siren went off. Prying an eye open, she saw the avalanche of hay disappear as at least a hundred more of those hooded spectres came flying out and surrounded the building; focused on their only target.

Doomie, seeming to understand the danger, let out a series of beeps as his driver door swung open, ushering her inside. Taking the hint, the girl quickly clambered in to the car as it started the engine and made a U-turn on its own, but then suddenly halted. Marcelyna gasped as she looked ahead, seeing three specters standing side by side, blocking their only route out. Hearing the car give off what sounded like a growl, a noxious cloud of grey smoke flooded out the exhaust pipe as the convertible began to shake.

Once the smog cleared, she was beyond stunned as the car now turned from green to a very dark-purple red with a texture that almost resembled fur. Its back wheels were raised on monster tires and two black claw-tipped arms protruded from the front wheels, currently digging in to the ground and ready to attack as the engine revved menacingly and tires began rotating. Before she could protest, the werewolf car lunged forward and drove right through the barricade, making the floating ghosts evaporate in to swirling wisps. The possessed car smashed through the closed gate before the specters could reform and sped off down the road.

* * *

Gripping the driver's wheel tightly, though knowing it currently had no effect, Marcelyna let out a long withheld breath and panted for air. Turning her head to look back at the jailhouse, she saw the specters begin to mobilize; flying in a giant mass in the air and moving out in the direction opposite them.

"Doo-Doomie!" She called over the loud engine. "They're not coming after us, you can stop!"

The fiendish swirling eyes of the headlights blinked, wheels slowing down as the car turned back to its original state and swerved to the side. Biting the inside of her cheek, her fingers tightened on the wheel, helping to steel her will.

"We have to follow them."

Beeping in agreement, Doomie turned around and sped off down the road after them.

* * *

The Neitherworld Courthouse was fully packed both inside and out with ghosts and ghouls from all across the land coming to witness what the press was calling this the biggest jailbreak in neitherworld history. Inside the courtroom were all the readily available higher-ups and officials, talking amongst themselves in the loud ramblings about how this was even possible.

Having had enough with the boisterous noise and disorderly conduct, the Judge stood up and slammed his bone-shaped gavel, voice dry with age and yellow eyes blazing. "Quiet down everyone! I want order in my court!"

The attendants stopped immediately as they looked up at the sallow-skinned, skeleton-like man wearing his authoritative red robes and curled, white-powdered wig. "Now sit down so we may proceed." They did as told almost mechanically, the simultaneous movement shaking the very foundation of the room.

Grasping the shining plaque with his title between his thumb and forefinger to prevent it from falling off the desk, the judge let out a sigh. "We will now begin with this most...surreal case. Bring forth the accused and _Him_."

The bailiff, dressed eerily in executioner's garb, brought forth Jacques, the Monster, and Ginger, all three still in handcuffs as they approached the bench from the left. From the right, a quartet of specters wheeled out Beetlejuice who was entrapped in a spiked cage with one of the four guards on each side.

The bailiff put his arms behind his back as he turned to address the court. "Due to the unusual circumstances of the case, there will be no formal defense or prosecution. Court will proceed based on the previously gathered evidence, witness testimony, and final ruling will be judged by collective vote of the attending Neitherworld Officials and Judge Mental."

"BULL-OGNA!" Beetlejuice cried from the cage, turning in to a legged pack of the popular deli meat with bull horns and a ring in his nose. "What happened to judgment by peers?"

"You don't have any peers Beetle-jerk. And the closest things to them are on trial along with you." He spoke from under his black hood.

"That's a load 'a-"He was cut off by a loud banging as the doors were forced open, a small creature flying down the center path. "That's enough out of you Beetlejuice!" The tiny thing spoke, its bat-like wings propelling it in front of the ghost. The creature was only about six inches tall with dried out brownish-yellow skin that clung to its large skull and tiny ribs and two little horns poked out of its head. He pointed a gnarled and bony finger at him, overly large eyes glaring pointedly. "You're in BIG trouble mister!"

The poltergeist chuckled at the small thing flying in his face. "Get the press in here! News of the century: a pest so nasty even I wouldn't eat it."

It's stringy, pitch-fork ended tail straightened as it filled with rage. "Why you...I'll have the specters convert that empty head of yours in to a decanter!" He threatened, wrapping his little hands and feet around the bars.

"Yeah, yeah, shoe fly, don't bother me." He said, turning in to a boot and kicking against the bars. The imp let out a screech as it was partially hit, flying back a few inches and pointing a shaky finger at him.

"Just wait till the Mistress gets here!"

During the commotion that erupted from the spat, Marcelyna snuck in to the open doors and overlooked the situation from a corner in the back, slowly inching her way closer as the proceedings went on.

"Mayor Maynot, come to the stand!"

A thickly bandaged, mummy-like figure wearing a neat, medium-blue, pinstriped suit with dark shades over his eyes stood up, extinguishing a cigarette as he sat next to the judge, clearing his throat. "Beetlejuice has been a nuisance to our society since he was an infant!" The mayor motioned for his assistant; I.M. Smallhead to stand up, dragging a briefcase with papers sticking out that looked ready to burst. Barely managing to get it on top of the desk, the clasps flung open and a list unfolded itself like an accordion down the hall and out the door. "That's just his juvenile record!"

Everyone in the room gasped while the assistant sorted through documents and pictures, starting to read them off. "Beetlejuice was single-handedly responsible for the Great Pudding War, putting the Guila-monster in the mayor's underwear thirty-two times, the Cootie Invasion of 'forty-nine, the Bay-Lynx High-Jinx, who could forget Beetlemania, Forty days and Forty Nights of raining gnats and slugs, the Plight-Mites, and I think we _all_ remember The Great Duck-Duck-Juice Fiasco..."

The viewers shrieked in horror, several fainting at the mere mention of the incident. "And those are some of his lighter crimes..."

"Feed him to the Sandworms!" Someone shouted, several others sounding off in agreement.

"We tried that already," Judge Mental answered, "he escaped on several occasions."

"Call in an agent from the BS&P!"

"...Are we allowed to say that?"

"The Bureau of Sweetness and Prissiness won't send out anyone or even answer our calls after what happened to their last fairy…" The Mayor replied, rubbing the back of his neck. I.M. Smallhead nodded in agreement. "It's true, the poor thing was institutionalized so the town had to pay compensation."

"Send him to rehab in Neither-Neither Land!"

A small girl with yellow curls wearing a blue dress and matching witches hat with pointed black sunglasses stood up, voice shrill. "That meanie-beety caused an all-out riot and broke my Jack-in the-Box!" She pointed her giant pink and white swirled lollipop at him. "He's banned from all scumdildilyumptious tea parties and niminy-piminy social events!" Her voice became uncharacteristically dark and deep. "FOREVER!"

The ghost simply floated casually in his confinement, legs crossed and hands behind his head, amused by his long list of 'accomplishments.'

"Then what do we do?"

"Put him back in the vaults?"

"House Arrest is the most secure prison in the Neitherworld and he _still_ managed to escape! He'll just do it again if we put him back!"

"_I say, we let him go_!"

Everyone in the room turned to glare at the poltergeist who had just disguised his voice. He shrugged innocently. "What, don't I get a say?"

"NO!" They all shouted unanimously, making the ghost grind his teeth from the earsplitting noise and frown.

The Judge knocked his gavel to regain attention. "Calm yourselves! It is true that House Arrest is the strongest facility for holding unmanageable and corrupted souls. It's vaults are made with the most impenetrable substance in both worlds and extra precautions are always taken to ensure permanent enclosure. Once locked in, one cannot be released. It is obvious that outside help was necessary for Beetlejuice to escape." He turned his attention to the three in shackles. "Is it really a coincidence that the three of you would be caught at the scene of the crime unless you were somehow responsible?"

"Troo-ly, we 'ad no part in 'iz ezcape." Jacques replied.

"Darn toot'in!"

"Jacques right Your Honor; we never made it past the secretary!"

The Judge looked over to the little green man. "Is this true?"

The Secretary stepped forward, adjusting his glasses. "It had to be them Sir, though I don't know how. They came in claiming to be part of a jamboree and while I was distracted, the bottom vault was breached so we went in to lock down. A few minutes later, the prisoner escaped by breaking through the floor and forcing the door open." He scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Though I thought there was something else that came out of the vault with him...something red and black..."

Jacques suddenly spoke to distract attention from the overthinking secretary. "Az we zaid, we did not do it, but I would like to confezz zomet'ing. I do not approve of Be-atlejoose's zentence and I never did."

"Yeah!" Ginger piped in. "It isn't fair to do that to somebody! It's inhumane!"

"I gotta admit, it is mighty cruel. Even I wouldn't have wished it on that rotten prankster."

"A-HA!" The little flying pest pointed to them accusingly. "See! They all had an incentive! They're all guilty! Guilty!"

"GUILTY!" The crowd chimed in, making the creature rub it's tiny hands together and laugh, glaring back at Beetlejuice.

"Calm down Nergal." An eerily soothing yet commanding feminine voice called, making everyone look at the entrance of the courtroom.

Standing in front of the opened doors was a tall, elegantly standing woman wearing a long grey dress that cascaded over the floor. Silver chains dangled in criss-crossing loops from her waist over the skirt and a bone-like substance wrapped like a snake over the top lining and hem of the bodice, curving up the center in an ornate decoration that brought out her hourglass figure. The same bone detailing wrapped over her arm from beneath her elbows to cover the back of her hands like intricate jewelry. Transparent and ripped sleeves hung from just beneath her shoulders, draping down to the floor; tinged with age. Her skin was a pale mossy green with black stitches peeking out over her chest, leading under the dress. Small patches of mold grew on the corner of her face and cheeks and in random splotches over the rest of her like beauty marks that blended in her flesh tone, along with a decaying mark on the corner of her purple lips. Her eyes were covered by thickly layered bangs; hair curving and swirling out in to large sprigs all the way down her back and passed her knees in a blue-green hue. A pair of large light, brownish-grey ram horns grew out of her head, decorated with scraps of veiled material similar to the fabric of her sleeves. A small crown of curved spike-like protrusions resembling rib bones stuck out from the center of her head. She glided down the aisle hypnotically, arms out at her sides and fingers splaying her long black nails.

"M-Mistress Barbelo, you've arrived!" The apparent servant bowed to her while flying in mid-air.

"Barbsy!" The ghost on trial called from his cage. "You come down to say I'm out for good behavior?" He blinked his puppy-dog eyes innocently.

"How dare you address my mistress so informally you impudent little-!" Nergal shouted wrathfully but was stopped as she raised her hand dismissively before approaching the captive.

"Sorry Beetlejuice, you're not getting out of this that easily." She shook her head slightly before moving back to address the court. "I can honestly say without ego, my vaults are impenetrable and unbreakable from the inside, and out. His in particular," she motioned to Beetlejuice, "I took great care and measure in constructing. As an extra safeguard, we had his vault secured in the underbelly of the House, over a sand pit with a King Sandworm I procured from the Forbidden Zone of Titan."

The viewers whispered amongst themselves as the Judge cleared his dust-filled throat. "Then please Miss Barbello, enlighten us. How is it that the convicted escaped?"

"That is the mystery. The vault showed no signs of force -it is impervious, I assure you- but it was somehow lifted by the chains with enough force to break through the main entrance hall and was also used to kill the sandworm. The Specters and I found it with its head crushed under the weight of the vault."

"The intruders! They're responsible! It's them! Them!" Nergal shrieked in a nasally voice, trying to sway the jurors, though it really wasn't that hard to do.

The Judge hit his gavel to quiet the pest and up-roaring viewers. "Barbelo, are these three accomplices in Beetlejuice's escape?"

"While impossible, it is possible." She stated cryptically. "We may not know the true purpose or what their intentions were, especially after twenty years, but given their past relationship and the circumstances given, it is possible they were involved."

"Guilty! All four of them!" Nergal simplified his Mistress' words while pumping a fist in the air.

"Get over here you flying rat so I can juice you inside out!" Beetlejuice yelled while rattling the bars and attempting to reach for him.

"Guilty." Mayor Maynot said, crushing the remainder of the second cigarette he had started.

"Head of the BS&P just called in: Guilty," I.M. Smallhead hung up the phone on the wall.

"Guilty." Little Miss Warden chimed in.

The Judge grave a low grunt, preparing his gavel. "Guilty."

The sound-splitting smash of the object rang in Marcelyna's ears and pierced through her head like a bullet through the brain. She had made her way to the third row from the front and managed to squeeze in to the corner at the end, feeling torn between standing up to say something, and standing up to run. This wasn't her world, though she still hoped it was all a dream; but as the proceedings went on, she found herself less and less able to convince herself. Either way it was wrong. This was wrong.

"No!" Her voice cried out and she found herself standing amidst the seated ghosts, ghouls and monsters crammed in the room, all of their attention immediately focused on her.

The oozing green secretary wiped his glasses on his red uniform, moving them back and forth on the bridge of his nose as he squinted to study her before blinking in realization. "Her! She's the one I thought I saw with Beetlejuice when he came through the floor!"

Separating herself from the crowd, she stepped out of the aisle and walked up to the corner of the last row, still too afraid to approach the angry and accusing glares fixed on her. Nergal buzzed his way like a fly over to her until he was in her face.

"Who are you? Why are you here? Why do you look so-" He cut off his fastly spoken demands as if suddenly noticing something. Giving a gasp he, flew a good foot from her and pointed his twig of a finger at her. "Human! It's a human girl!"

The rest of the room gasped in unison, including the officials up front who looked on in disbelief. Jacques, Ginger, and the Monster exchanged nervous glances before looking back at her, matching her worried expression.

Barbelo took a few steps forward, tilting her head to the side as she looked on, eyes remaining shielded by her bangs. "Come over here girl, do not be frightened, I merely want to have a look at you."

Nergal flew in an arch to the side of the human, yelling across from her ear. "Move it Breather!"

Riveted to the floor, she let out a squeak when two of the hooded transparent specters moved to either side and forced her stock-still body to float an inch off the ground and up to the haunting and intimidating woman.

Barbelo secured Marcelyna's chin in a rather delicate grasp, long black nails pressing against her cheek and under her chin, manipulating her head to different angles. The girl stared back in to the eyeless face, too nervous to even blink.

Releasing her captive grasp, Barbelo's cold pricking fingers dragged down Marcelyna's pale throat and rested against the bare skin beneath her collar bone, looking ready to dig in to her chest and rip out her still beating heart to be sure. Instead, she pulled her hand away in a swift movement and took a step back.

"She is alive."

More commotion broke out, shouts of 'guilty' and 'arrest' urging Marcelyna to try and end this as soon as possible. "I-It wasn't their fault!" She found her voice, trying to be heard over the crowd. "All they did was take me there, I was the one who snuck down the hall and went to the vault!"

"How did you get here?"

Realizing she meant the Neitherworld or whatever it was called, she answered. " I-I read this poem o-or chant off a piece of paper I found hidden in a dresser mirror. I-I think it was by saying his name three times," she pointed to Beetlejuice, "when I opened my eyes I was in another room and there was this staircase to a door. I went through it, but then I couldn't get back in. I-I thought that maybe if I could talk to him, he could tell me how to get back home b-but I couldn't hear anything when I called so I tried the key and..." She wanted to keep her explanation short and to the point, but found herself faltering throughout, letting it hang at the end.

"Key?" Barbelo repeated, suddenly sounding very interested.

Marcelyna reached in to her pocket and produced the key, holding it out in front of her, but drew it back as Nergal flew for it, shrieking hysterically. "The key! It's the key Mistress!" The woman came forth in a swift sweep and snatched the key from the girls grasp, analyzing it with an expression of shock based on the way her jaw was set, lips slightly parted.

"Where did you get this?" She asked, chest rising and falling with unnecessary breath.

"I-I found it...in the Peaceful Pines Cemetery across the Winter River Bridge," she replied shakily.

"What is your name, child?" Barbelo asked listlessly, attention not leaving the key balanced expertly between the nails of her thumb and index finger.

"M-Marcelyna...Marcelyna Hargreaves."

The woman's head snapped up, like a puppet being jerked on a string by its master's sudden control.

"Marcelyna...Hargreaves," the woman repeated, the corners of her mouth pulling high up her cheeks and across her face in a Cheshire grin so wide, she would've believed Lewis Carroll coined the term after seeing it. The girl took a step back as the woman's jagged and pointed teeth were revealed, looking much like a crescent-shaped puzzle with very sharp and deadly pieces tightly fitted together. Even more frightening was the fact that her purple lips didn't stretch with the grin, remaining the same size and in the same place and shape, making her mouth seem to be an entity all its own.

"Release them." The smile never left her face. "They're free to go."

"WHAT?" The crowd went in to an uproar, including Nergal who flew over to Barbelo imploringly. "B-B-But Mistress! How can you-!"

Beetlejuice interrupted by cackling loudly. "HAHA! You heard her Nerg, So chop, chop, I've got a lot to ketch-up on," he turned in to a giant bottle of ketchup and exploded red tomato sauce on everyone in the rows, making them yell in rage. "HAHA!"

"Not you Beetlejuice, only those three. As I said before, you're not getting off that easily." Barbelo commented, making the ghost pull at the bars furiously.

"AW, COME ON!"

"What do you propose we do with him now, Barbelo? And the human?" Judge Mental asked, looking down at her. It was obvious they all held her in high regard by the way they remained silent and attentive; awaiting her word.

Barbelo watched as Marcelyna hurried over to the trio being unchained by the bailiff, "Two birds with one stone." She said quietly, turning back to the officials. "I understand some justice was in order for what happened in the past, but perhaps the problem would have best been eliminated to prevent further dilemmas, much like the one that occurred today." She motioned to the girl with a turn of her head, both catching each other's line of sight, before turning back.

Judge Mental's expression became solemn; the other's avoided eye contact but kept devoid of any emotion. He hit the gavel, addressing the poltergeist. "Beetlejuice, due to your failure to rehabilitate yourself or show any signs of remorse for your deeds, the Neitherworld here by sentences you to be exorcised."

The room fell deathly silent, looks of shock and grim appearing on the once angry and jeering faces. Jacques wore a look of pure horror and Ginger let out a terrified gasp. "Oh no! They're gonna kill him!"

Marcelyna stood stunned. "What do you mean? Isn't he already dead?" She asked, confused.

The Monster took his hat off and spoke gravely. "It's death for the dead."

"WHAT? YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME! I'M THE GHOST WITH THE MOST! YOU BUNCH'A LOSERS!" He pulled at the bars furiously, growing in to a large mass to try and force the bars to give way but to no avail.

Marcelyna took a bold step forward. "Wait! It wasn't his fault though; I'm the one who let him out!" She pleaded, not certain what had come over her to make her care so much.

"Stand down child! We cannot be swayed by the pleadings of a human child!" The judge bellowed, smashing the bone mallet.

"Yeah! We'll deal with you afterwards, brat!" Nergal shouted.

Barbelo's voice sounded over the echo. "On the contrary, the girl does have a point. None of this would have happened if it wasn't for her."

The girl blanched at her directness, but the woman continued on with her speech. "Perhaps an ultimatum is in order. After all, we do have two problems on our hands. This may lead to one easy solution."

"What are you proposing?" The judge asked, folding his hands together.

"We let the girl make the decision." A small smirk played at the corner of her lip.

"What! B-But Mistress, she's just a foolish little breather! How can you leave something of this magnitude to..to It?" Nergal tried to reason desperately.

She ignored him, gliding closer to the human girl in question. "Miss Hargreaves,..do you truly wish to save this already lost soul?"

Marcelyna's eyes looked at the trio for guidance, but it was clear none of them had a clue what was going on; then her gaze darted across the room to the ghost floating in the cage, fingers clutching the bars with a befuddled expression still mixed with anger and something more...

She looked back and answered almost hesitantly. "Yes..."

That eerie and frightening shark-like grin broadened once again. "Very well. If you wish to save him, you must form a pact. Beetlejuice will be set free, but you, my dear, will be the one to suffer the burden of being responsible for his actions. And believe me child; the weight of this burden may very well crush you in to an early grave. In exchange, you will be his ward and he will protect you and keep you safe. Though he doesn't look it, he really is quite powerful, but far more mischievous than anything. So, are you willing to make this bargain?"

Shouts erupted from the crowd, most of which warned that he was a prankster and could not be trusted, and would only use her to his advantage. The voices rang in her ears incessantly and she had no one to look to for guidance. Then again, she had her cards, and the readings suddenly made sense. She went through with the risk of reading the paper and using the key which started this mess. She heard words from all sides, perhaps they were trying to mislead her in to condemning this thing when she didn't truly know anything about him. The situation was taking all the strength she had to keep from passing out, especially with the woman who looked ready to devour her at any moment with those grinning teeth. The real problem, was whether or not to trust this trickster whom she may be risking her very life for.

Was she really willing to listen to the speculative meanings of seven pieces of stiff paper?

Thinking it over again, there were still some parts missing. Something had happened in the past that led to an injustice. Was it the ghost's confinement? And what exactly did her mother have to do with all this? It seemed that everyone she had met knew her somehow, including this Beetlejuice character that had mistaken her for her mother and even said he knew she'd get him out. Now he could be free, if the wrongs done were made right. This would be the only opportunity. The last chance. If she agreed.

"B-Before I decide, I want to know...why was he really in that vault?"

There was a long pause. The room grew so silent, a pin could drop and echo as loud as shattering glass. Barbelo's grin had vanished and within a few moments, she began to speak.

"He and another human nearly exposed the Neitherworld to the living, and humans cannot know that it exists. It would disrupt the balance of life and death; ruin the natural order of the worlds. That is why he was condemned and the girl's memories of this place were removed. Not a trace was left -or so we thought- and we will do the same with you if you wish it. You can go back to the Living world with no recollection of any of this. It will be like none of this happened."

"WHAT! You mean...Lyds doesn't even know me?" The rage in the ghost's voice lowered as he uttered the last part pensively.

Barbelo turned her attention to him momentarily. "No, she does not. And it will stay that way. That is another rule," she looked back to the girl, "should you agree, you are forbidden from speaking of this to anyone, or the consequences will be dire."

Marcelyna gazed at his melancholic stature; the way his body slumped over as if the bars were the only thing keeping him standing. There was no trace of the maniacal maniac she had met when she opened that door. Could someone who showed this much remorse over the loss of someone be as bad as all these others claimed?

"I will." Her voice let out in a single breath. "I mean, I agree." She didn't feel like it was herself speaking. It was something far deeper, something far more profound; and she foolishly trusted it.

The world around her had a stunned silence that lasted only momentarily, followed by disapproving groans and whispers. The poltergeist gawked at her before giving a sly and apprehensive smile as though wondering if they were trying to trick the un-trickable trickster.

"As you wish." That grin was back again, flashing at the girl and catching a glimpse at Beetlejucie as she turned around, "Let him go." She ordered the specters with a flick of her wrist as she walked back to the Judge's seat, looking much more livelier than her slow movements had previously revealed possible.

"Is this really wise?" Judge Mental asked, eyeing the girl suspiciously.

"You can't tell me you don't see it."

His questioning gaze lowered to Barbelo as she spoke. "Black hair. Pale skin. Dark eyes. That undaunted sense of nobility and courage. After all, only one person was ever able to survive -even thrive- in the Neitherworld."

"Lydia Deetz." The name rumbled in his dry throat, eyes once again roaming to the human girl being embraced by the trio of neighbors before approaching the cage as the translucent hooded guards opened the locks and released the prisoner.

Barbelo held the skeleton key between her nails once again. "The odds of her finding the one grave in all the world this key was hidden in is beyond the bounds of possibility." Her invisible gaze was drawn back to the group Marcelyna stood amongst, watching as the freed convict grabbed Nergal by the end of his tail as he tried to flee, reeling him in to his quite literal iron grasp with a malevolent sneer.

Barbelo's lips quirked in to a small, crooked grin as the girl seemed to try and get the vengeful ghost to ease up on her henchman.

"Marcelyna Hargreaves... Let us see what Fate has in store for you."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Sorry for the delay, I got really busy with Halloween and a wedding. Hopefully, the length of this chapter will make up for this, but as a result, I didn't have much time to proof read or edit so please forgive any mistakes. I'm not sure how long it'll take to post the next chapter, but I was hoping you, the readers, could help give me some ideas by naming some characters you would like to see in future chapters. Please review and thank you for reading.**

**The Tyrant Grim Chapter 4**

Marcelyna hauled her black and white striped luggage with damask print out of the closet, dragging it with the help of the wheels through the piles of her miscellaneous belongings strewn out on the floor until she reached the side of her bed, laying it flat on the floor and kneeling to unzip it open and pull the smaller sizes out in decreasing order while she talked.

"I really can't Grandma Delia, I still have all my packing to do."

"Oh, but dear!" Her voice rang high. "It's our last weekend together and the fair is a tradition!"

The girl turned her head to look up at the older woman who stood in the doorway, eyes wide and glistening with her lower lip stuck out and quivering. Holding back a laugh at the comical pleading expression, she offered a small regretful smile instead. "I'm sorry; maybe I'll go in the evening for some fried dough and catch the fireworks with you."

Delia sniffled and wiped an unshed tear with her finger dramatically. "All right. I'll just wander around _alon_e like a senile old woman _alone_, watching the other families have fun while I sit, _alone_, go on the Ferris Wheel, _alone_," her voice began to tighten, "getting older and eating cotton candy _alone_, and getting fat, _ALONE_!" She covered her face with her hands and began to bawl loudly.

Marcelyna couldn't stifle her laughter at the over exaggerated acting. "Grandma, you won't get old and fat from one day at the fair, and besides, you won't be alone, Grandpa Charles is going. You two will have just as much fun without me." She tried to reassure her.

The woman threw her head back, hands still over her eyes, letting out another wounded cry. "Who knows how many more years before you stop visiting us and I'm too old to even recognize you!" She left the room, weeping still as she walked down the hallway.

"Geez and I thought I had problems."

Marcelyna whipped her head to the sound of the voice, attention drawn instantly to the mirror on the wall. The poltergeist's face reflected off the glass as he scrunched to the side to get a better angle of the door. "What's with the waterworks Marce?" His head turned in to a faucet, hand-wheel turning to let water run out and fill the glass before draining out with a flushing sound.

She stood up and hurried to the door, checking for either of her grandparents before closing it shut and pressing her back to it. "How long have you been there? What would we have done if she just happened to look that way and saw you?"

"Nah, you worry too much," he waved his hand dismissively before letting his eyes roam around the room. "So what's go 'in on toots?"

The girl made her way back to the luggage, picking up the large and setting it on the bed next to a few piles of folded clothes. "I have to pack for school next week but grams is trying to give me the guilt trip so I'll go to the Peaceful Pines Farewell to Summer Fair."

"Ch', and you don't wanna? What kinda kid would rather stuff suitcases than screw around at a fair?"

Clicking the extra security belt to hold the clothes in place, she flipped the top closed and began to zip the luggage piece. "The kind of 'kid' that doesn't enjoy the embarrassing gossip her grandmother brings up and the annoying overly dressed people with kids on leashes, or the bright sun and even brighter colored booths."

He crossed his arms. "You got a point there." He drummed his fingers on his sleeve before pointing his index finger up in an epiphany, a small light bulb turning on above his head. "Hey, I know! Let's go to the Neitherworld Fair! It's a hundred times better than any old shindig here!"

Marcelyna bit her lip. "Sorry Beetlejuice, if one of my grandparents decides to check on me and I'm not here, Delia's going to flip and I'll never hear the end of it."

The light bulb above the ghost's head flickered and burst. Then, almost as if on cue, there was a knock on the door. "Marcelyna, I just convinced Delia to go to the fair so we're leaving. Just please try and come down before the fireworks start, we'll wait by the fried dough stand!" Charles called, mumbling quietly as he walked away, "Finally I can sneak some decent food..."

The girl turned her head back to the mirror, seeing the smug expression looking back at her. "Well, that takes care of that problem."

She let out a sigh, "Beetlejuice, I still have to pack-"

"Oh! You said it twice! Once more and I'll have all this wrapped up and topped with a bow, all ready for Christmas." He turned in to a box with a ribbon magically stretching itself around the cube and tying off at the top.

Marcelyna smiled, it was small but genuine, and something she had noticed she'd been doing more often in the last two weeks. "That's nice but, aren't you the one who said you never do anything for free? What's this favor gonna cost me?"

He waved both hands away from him, sounding insulted. "I don't charge friends Marce, geez, you make me sound like some kind of con-man!"

She crossed her arms, skeptical, "Uh-huh, this coming from the most rotten conman in the Neitherworld, maybe even my world too..."

He clasped his hands together and swayed bashfully. "Well shucks, you're making me blush."

"Beetlejuice," she giggled before realizing she said his full name.

"Ooh! You said it!" With a snap of his fingers, he disappeared from the mirror and Marcelyna jumped as her suitcases floated in the air in front of her; the other objects she had laid out doing the same and magically sorting themselves in to the matching set. In under a minute, they simultaneously zipped closed and stood one in front of the other with the carry-on on top. Beetlejuice appeared to the side of the luggage, dressed in a red and yellow bellhop costume. He patted the little bell on his head which gave a ring. "You're bags Miss, and I do believe a tip is customary."

She couldn't help but chuckle at his appearance and proper demeanor. "I thought it was more classy not to accept tips."

He turned back to his black and white striped suit, pulling at the stained lapels of his jacket. "I'm the furthest thing from classy, HA-HA! But seriously, pay me with three B's."

She complied, letting out a defeated sigh. "Alright, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice."

* * *

The pair walked down the flag-lined trail to the fair entrance. Marcelyna was indeed impressed by the dark colored booths, reading off the names 'Head Toss' and 'Cross Bones' nearest her and seeing the very strange dolls and stuffed animals for prizes that seemed to still be alive. A child was playing at what she recognized to be a fishing pond but instead of there being a goldfish at the end of the rod; the kid reeled in an octopus-like monster, the tentacles nearly dragging him in.

Beetlejuice cackled at the sight. "HA-HA! So what do ya think babes? A real nightmare huh?"

"Well, it's nothing like the Peaceful Pines Fair," she replied, watching the carousel with strangely shaped and colored animal seats spin at such a high velocity, the riders became a blur and the clown head on top laughed, spitting fire from its grinning mouth.

"Just wait 'til we hit the food. In fact," he sniffed the air, letting his striped green tongue hang out of his mouth, "I can smell the fried toes from here!"

She looked at him quizzically before her attention was drawn to a surreal looking man with a head the shape of the famous screaming man wearing a purple suit and holding a microphone with his accordion shaped arms. "Gooood afternoon ghosts and ghouls and monsters of all ages, and welcome to The Neitherworld Fair. Enjoy the large variety of games and entertainment and let's not forget to try the wide array of foods so slimy and grotesque, it's to die for! Oh, wait, you already have! Oh, and a reminder folks, this year's winners for best show will receive a cash prize so, good luck and knock 'em dead - again!"

"Cash prize!" Beetlejuice lit up, face turning in to a sign with multi-colored lights blinking along the sides while his eyes turned in to flashing green dollar signs. "It's show time!"

"Wha-ah!" Just as Marcelyna was about to question the ghost's suddenly 'bright' personality, he grabbed her by her wrists and swung her around before releasing her to land on her feet. She gasped as she realized her red and black spider web dress was now lengthened and flared at the bottom with a slit going up to her thigh. Instead of black tights she had fishnets and a pair of red pumps replaced her boots. The black gloves were shortened down to her wrist and red blush and eye shadow was added to match her red lipstick; hair also swept part way in to an up-do. Feeling somewhat violated by being suddenly transformed in to this slightly revealing costume without her consent, she looked over only to have to look up as the ghost now stood on a tall wooden crate, having also gone through a change in clothes. His black shoes and striped pants remained the same but he now had a fully visible purple dress shirt and a black bow tie with his jacket condensed in to a black and white striped vest. A black cape with red on the reverse side hung over his shoulders and a black magician's hat sat on top of his head.

He took his hat off and twirled his cane before tapping the two and pulled out a monster's head covered in eyes with long red lips over sharp fangs and several tentacles waving about. "Houdini ain't got nothing on the ghost with the most."

"Beetlejuice! What did you-! What am I-? This?!" She yelled, motioning to her new attire.

He shoved the monster back in the hat and on to his head, turning to her. "Don't sweat it babes, you'll make everyone's heart start to pump. That's how we draw in a crowd."

"Crowd? What do you mean crowd?!"

"For the show of course!" He shouted like it should have been obvious to her. "I need a side attraction slash assistant for my act to win that cash prize for best show!"

"BWA-HA-HA-HA! That's the funniest thing you've ever said Beetle-_joke_! Ha-Ha!" The arrogant voice made both of them turn their heads to see a large hunch-backed, black-faced clown clad in a baggy purple polka-dotted green dress-like shirt with a curved witch-shaped hat decorated with green bells down the front and topped with a green poof ball on the end.

"Scuzzo..."Beetlejuice muttered, grinding his teeth so hard that chips began to grate out of his mouth.

"I heard you got out. Guess it's true, prison does change a person...you look even worse than before! HAHA!"

The ghost smirked, turning the insult around. "Why thank you, I do try to keep down my appearance. Too bad I can't say the same about you, you overused, second-rate, insult to comedy!"

The clown frowned as his joke backfired, but quickly bounced back. "Competing for best show, huh? Well, from one champ to a _chump_, good luck." He reached his hand out to shake.

Beetlejuice looked at him like he thought he was stupid. "You really think I'm gonna fall for that lame trick? You're either gonna buzz me or you're hand's gonna fall off."

The clown's grin broadened. "Nope," his hand suddenly turned in to a large fist that launched out on a spring, punching the poltergeist through the booth behind him and several others before recoiling back in to place. "Sucker punch; get it, 'cuz you suck! HAHA!"

Marcelyna looked through the line of holes to where Beetlejuice was laid out in the small pool at the fishing booth. Sitting up and rubbing his head with a groan, he suddenly cried out as a tentacle reached out and grabbed him, trying to pull him under.

Letting out another laugh at the sight, Scuzzo moved closer to her and pulled an orange card out from behind her ear and presented it to her while sweeping his other arm behind his back and bending in to a bow. She took the card from him hesitantly. "In case you get tired of working with that wash up," he jabbed her arm with his elbow and winked, "get it? HAHA!"

She let out a strained laugh as he waddled away in his large purple shoes, still folding over in laughter at his own joke. Flipping the card over, she read over the green words: "Scuzzo: The Neitherworld's Greatest Entertainer", before slipping it in to her dress as Beetlejuice returned, dripping wet.

"I'm gonna cancel that sap-headed hazbin!" He yelled in fury, shaking the water off and regaining his composure, looking more determined than ever. "Let's turn on the juice and see what shakes loose." He jumped back up on to the crate and began doing a series of transformations and magic tricks for no one in particular.

Marcelyna just crossed her arms over her chest. "I can do more than just stand on the side you know...are you even listening to me?"

The ghost was currently doing an odd shuffling jig. "Come on babes! 'Ya gotta smile to reel 'em in!" He turned in to a fishing rod and swung his line out, pulling in a grouping of people.

"Is that all I'm good for? To look pretty and stand here like a grinning idiot so you can make some fast cash?!"

"CASH! Where?!" His eyes extended from his head like binoculars, frantically searching the fair grounds.

Rolling her eyes, she threw her hands up in frustration, "Ugh!" Having had enough of his avaricious attitude, she walked away from him as he performed for his literally captive audience; completely oblivious to the fact that the girl had left.

Walking a ways down the trench-worn path, Marcelyna pulled the orange card out from her dress and read it again. Grasping it in her fist, she continued down to a large orange and green striped circus tent that stood waiting just a short distance ahead.

* * *

"And for my next trick," Beetlejuice pulled out a spray can from his vest and shook it, pressing down on the nozzle. A beak followed by a birds head with bulging eyes began to squeeze through before the entirety of the poor ruffled and mangled creature popped out and flew away while screeching.

"Ta-da! Dove in a can!" He stood still in his stance on the makeshift podium, expression souring in to a frown as not even the cricket in his audience made a sound. Instead, they all began to walk past him without giving a second look.

"What? No, No Wait! Come back you saps!" He shouted as he followed the mob, cries falling on deaf ears even as he latched on to a random leg and was dragged through the dirt. "You buncha losers wouldn't know good comedy if it bit you in the- BEEP!BEEP!" Beetlejuice lost his grip and fell, face flat in the dirt as a tiny wind-up clown car drove right past him, honking its horn.

He picked his head up enough to see the giant striped circus tent with the entrance only a few feet away. Hordes of people had flooded in and loud music began to blast from inside, the tent itself shaking back and forth as though it was dancing in tune to the sounds. Picking himself up and patting more dirt on to him instead of dusting it off, he begrudgingly floated in to the parted doors and stood to watch and see what all the hype was about.

"Heeeellllo again fellow fair-goers! Judging has only just begun for best show but it seems we may already have a winner! The seats are filled and the crowd is cheering for more-but for what? We don't know so we're here to find out!" The surreal announcer spoke. The lights in the rows began to dim and the crowd began to rejoice in anticipation. "Looks like the show is about to start!"

A single spotlight shined down in the center of the ring where an old pianola began to play a rustic burlesque tune, a climbing drumroll was added and a few quivering horns as it reached its climax before the little piano disappeared in a poof of smoke and a girl appeared on a slightly raised pedestal in its place. She had long black hair pulled in to high pigtails with sprigs of hair curling out at various points. Bangs covered over her left eye and framed her pale face; a black diamond tattooed under her right eye over powder red blush and a crimson heart over the center of her lips. She wore a black sleeveless, short skirted leotard with black and white horizontal striped tights underneath and soft black shoes. Her voice rang out as soon as she appeared, joining the frenzied orchestra in song.

_"Ah!"_

_"Come one, Come all, to the sound of the orchestra"_

_"Drop by and see, and we promise you you'll be,"_

_"Shouting with glee!"_

_"Wee!" _

_"Come one, Come all, we know just the thing you need,"_

_"On our staff's behalf, have a jolly good laugh,"_

_"That'll split you in half!" _

_"HA!"_

In a flash and another poof of smoke, the songstress looked to have split in two before disappearing as the cast members bounced in to the ring in tune with the still playing music. Two small spray bottles appeared in front of Beetlejuice who stared wide-eyed in disbelief. Each one gave a spritz before a mini squeegee appeared and wiped across each eye. That girl looked so much like...no, it couldn't be! He snuck further in to get a closer look at the ring side. The music picked up again and the girl reappeared, sitting high up in the left corner of the ring with her legs crossed and dangling over the side of the trapeze base.

_"Ah!"_

_"You're here! You're here! We welcome you to our stage!"_

_"Tonight we're gonna show, an act so Van-Gogh,"_

_"Your minds are gonna blow!"_

_"So,"_

She slipped off the base and fell feet first only to be caught by one of the ghouls who swung on the trapeze bar and grabbed her hands, swinging her back and setting her up on top of a diving board in the back center of the ring.

_"Are you ready now for all that we have in store?"_

_"'Cuz we're right about to start, and if you're really faint of heart,"_

_"Now'd be best to impart"_

_"Cuz, there are,"_

_"Fire breathers, knife eaters, best viewed from the first two rows,"_

_"Trapeze and corde lisse done with ease thanks to our two new pros,"_

_"We have acrobats that fly,"_

_"You won't even blink an eye,"_

_"As our stilts reach so high they look like they touch the sky!"_

As she sang the performers were introduced in order, taking the stage below and making the audience erupt in a series of oohs and ahhs while still mesmerized by the girl's melodic voice. Beetlejuice's mouth hung open. "She can sing?! Why didn't she tell me she had a set of pipes?!" He shouted, turning in to a fixed band of organ pipes.

_"You may find this play, a joyous wonder whimsy,"_

_"If you do, then I dare say it's true,"_

_"This is, the greatest show time,"_

_"Shout out loud and grin!"_

_"You're in for a spin!"_

A cloth rope noosed at the end was lowered to the board. She grasped it and slipped her foot in to the knot, wrapping it around herself and performing some simple aerial moves; twisting and turning as she was lowered down.

_"You can watch a screen, but this is so much better"_

_"It's so much more deserving of your time,"_

_"So sit back, and we'll entertain you," _

_"We're here to amuse you after all!"_

Upon landing on the ground, a bouquet of flowers was tossed her way, suddenly blowing up in to an explosion of confetti that rained down as the prop turned in to a top hat and cane once she grasped it and began dancing along with several others as the music played.

_"Come one, Come all to the sound of our orchestra,"_

_"Come by and see, and we promise you you'll be,"_

_'"Shouting with glee!"_

_"Come one, Come all, we know just the thing you need,"_

_"On our staff's behalf, have a jolly good laugh,"_

_"That'll split you in half!" _

_"There are,"_

_"Magic tricks and plates on sticks spinning both high and low,"_

_"Tumbling and Juggling in tune to the cannon's blow"_

_"We have clowns with twirling ties,"_

_"That toss around custard pies,"_

_"And a guy who always throws a bull's eye!"_

She used the cane to point out each act as it was performed before tossing it in to the air as she spun around and stepped back, the cane falling down vertically. There was an electrifying spark once it hit the ground, releasing a smoke screen that covered her. Once the mist cleared, the girl was gone and a single spotlight shone on the tightrope where she now stood, holding a black and white swirl umbrella.

_"You may find this play, a joyous wonder whimsy,"_

_"If you do, then I dare say it's true,"_

_"This is, the greatest show time,"_

_"It's the one and only, one and only!"_

She walked out on to the rope, looking more like she was walking with ease on air while maneuvering the umbrella; opening it and closing it, twirling it and flipping it. Once she reached the center she opened it outward towards the crowd and spun it in a long rotating circle before swinging it back up over her shoulder, fireworks sparking out from the point.

_"You can watch a screen, but this is so much better,"_

_"It's so much more deserving of your time,"_

_"So sit back, and we'll entertain you," _

_"We're here to amuse you after all!"_

While singing a series of notes after the words, the spotlights lit up on the center of the ring where a clown on a unicycle rode out to the center of the stage. The spotlights on the right and left side of the ring also lit up, shining down on trampolines on either sides as the other performers jumped on to them and over; piling in to a complicated pyramid starting on top of the cyclist. The cannon went off and a large red ball launched out at the pyramid, the single person on the top catching it and balancing it on their head. Out from the two ends of the trapeze, Scuzzo and his brother Fuzzo held on to the bars and swung out, doing a flip in the air before landing with one foot side by side on the ball, holding right arm to left to form an inverted triangle. For the finale, Marcelyna jumped down from the center of the tightrope, landing on top of the two clowns who held each foot up with their free hand before forcing her back up in the air, this time she landed on their conjoined arms, seated and perfectly balanced with one leg crossed over the other and her hands up, while their free ones fanned out in a wave.

Beetlejuice's jaw had dropped so low, his mouth stretched in to a pile on the floor, eyes going so wide they practically bugged out of his head. The crowd roared in applause and the announcer came on screen again. "Wwoooooowweee ghosts and ghouls! That was one of the best performances I've ever seen in my afterlife! Looks like there really is no competition against this ringer Wwoahh!" He cried as he was suddenly forced off screen as the angered and awe-struck poltergeist pushed passed him and jumped over the bars to enter the ring as the pyramid dispersed.

"MARCE!" His voice shouted, making the girl turn from the group of performers she had been talking to. "Why didn't ya tell me you could sing?!"

"Um, I tried to but you wouldn't listen," she crossed her arms over her chest, "do you really care now?"

"Well DUH!" He flung his arms out, "I could've been filthy rich by now! Well, just rich I guess, I'm already filthy," he wiped some grime out from behind his ear.

Marcelyna scowled in disgust, but not because of his uncleanliness. "You're unbelievable!"

"What?! You're one to talk!" He pointed an accusing finger at her. "You're the one fertilizing with enemy numero uno!"

Her eyebrows knitted together at his words. "Well, at least I'm part of something here instead of standing on the side like a plastic model pointing at the main attraction which, I have to say, is rather full of himself!"

Beetlejuice gasped and a second head pulled itself out of his mouth and spoke. "Oh yeah?! Well that inflated party favor is just using ya! He doesn't care about you, you're just a prop ta' him!"

"Not very different from how you treated me. I thought at least you would care, but I guess I was wrong. At least I have some value here."

Within moments, Scuzzo made his way over with his brother not too far behind. The elder of the two patted Marcelyna on the back, a huge grin stretched across his face. "That was great Doll! You're a hit!" He reached his arm behind her back and over her shoulder. "Stick with us, and you'll be the star of the circus!"

"More like carcass," the poltergeist sneered, hunching his shoulders and scowling at the clown.

Scuzzo frowned as he finally directed his attention to Beetlejuice. "Is Beetle-jerk giving you problems?"

Marcelyna strayed a downhearted glance at the ghost, "No, he was just leaving," before turning her back to him and beginning to walk away.

"But Babes!" he floated alongside the girl pleadingly before he was stopped by a large palm in his face. "Hey!" He pulled his flattened face out which had molded in to the shape of the hand and shook his head back to normal. Fuzzo pulled his hand back and grasped Marcelyna, hoisting her up to rest on his shoulder as he walked to the opposite end of the ring and disappeared behind the back curtain with the rest of the performers.

"Marce...?"

A fit of arrogant laughs broke out behind him and he felt a hand on his shoulder. "Sorry Beetle-loser, looks like nobody likes second-rate, old croaks HAHA!" The clown slapped him particularly hard on the back before waddling away while making a mocking face, adding his hands and sticking his tongue out at him.

Beetlejuice began to fume, gritting his teeth and balling his rage-shaking fists at his sides before letting his shoulders slouch; head hanging down and arms becoming limp as he let out a deflated sigh and floated out of the already empty tent.

* * *

The poltergeist stalked through the back half of the fairgrounds, behind the booths and attractions where he couldn't be seen. He kicked at some empty cans and popcorn boxes, hands shoved in his pockets with a grimace on his face.

"Chicks...sometimes I wonder if sandworms really are worst..."

BEEP! BEEP! The small little clown car from before came speeding down the narrow path and sideswiped him. "Woah!" He stumbled, hopping on one foot to the side before raising a shaking fist in the direction of the car as it kept driving. "Watch where you're going road hog!" He suddenly turned in to a large wild boar with tusks the shape of grip handles and body a large tire.

The miniature automobile skidded on its right tires as it swerved to the side, disappearing around the corner behind one of the tents. Beetlejuice shoved his hands back in his pockets and floated in the direction of the car with a scowl.

"This plan is full proof! The audience alone is larger than I first thought!" Beetlejuice could recognize that annoying and obnoxious voice anywhere. Poking his head through the open seam in the tent, he easily recognized Scuzzo standing amongst a group of his clown gang.

"The crowds are packing in for the show! As long as they focus on her especially during her lines with the umbrella prop, everyone will be hypnotized. Not only will I win best in show, we'll keep performing the act and soon we'll be number one and have the whole Neitherworld under our control! HAHA!"

The ghost pulled his head out and backed away from the tent, voice full of fury but also sounding cocky. "I knew it!" Flying as fast as he could, he approached the green and orange tent, barreling in to it without care for the things he knocked over or people he almost hit.

"MARCE!" Her name rang out in one long syllable, making her turn away from the lighted mirror she was seated at to look behind her where the yell was coming from. Before she knew what hit her, Beetlejuice flew in to the room and nearly slammed her back in to the desk even though she was still seated on the stool. He grasped either arm just below her shoulders and floated horizontally in the air, face a little too close to hers for comfort.

"Marce! I knew it! That zany hack is just using you!"

"Wha-?" She was cut off as he began to shake her, dominating the one-sided conversation.

"You're a tool! You can't be stupid enough to think you're actually worth something!"

Her body tensed while still in his grasp before suddenly going lax. She seemed to shrink back within herself as her eyelids lowered heavily, lips parting to let out a small but somewhat pained breath. Her gaze fell and wouldn't meet his, making him drop from his hovering state to stand on the ground and blink in confusion at her sudden emotional change. "What?"

Her eyes met his again, filled with anger and tears as she wriggled to tear herself from his grasp and get away from him. "You really are a _Jerk_!" She shouted in a strangled voice as she shoved past him.

He turned, still unsure what had come over her. "Wha'da ya -" It hit him like a ton of bricks. Literally. Several worn and dark red bricks fell out of a wheel barrow above his head and piled on top of him. He cleared his way out of the heap in a daze, rubbing his sore head before focusing back on the girl he just realized he insulted. "That came out wrong; I didn't mean it like that! Marce!"

But it was too late. She had disappeared out of sight and was no longer within earshot of his voice. His entire body slumped and he felt like kicking himself for what he had said. "I really am a jerk."

"And don't forget _loser_, HA HA!"

Before he had time to snap out of his sulk and turn to the voice, a wooden door was locked in place in front him, making him look down to realize he was fully encased in a magicians box with only his head poking through the top. "What the-?!"

"BWA-HA-HA-HA! Boy Beetlejuice, I didn't think you'd make my plan this easy! HA HA!" Scuzzo waddled in to the ghost's line of sight from behind him, making him let out a low growl as the clown continued to talk. "You practically walked right in to my trap!"

"What are ya talking about?!" Beetlejuice began to wriggle around in his boxed confinement.

"I knew you were listening to me in the tent. It was only a matter of time before you came back to find your little breather so I had this box ready to trap you. You're so predictable Beetle-brain! Or should I say _no_-brain! HA-HA!"

The poltergeist began to scowl as he realized his attempts to break out were in vain. "Even though I didn't get to tell her about your little scheme, Marce is smart enough to figure it out and when she does there's no way she'd go along with you!"

"She might after what you said to her Beetle-_Jerk_." The word reminded Beetlejuice of what he had said and how he treated her this whole day, making his expression drop. Scuzzo shrugged. "But it's no big deal if she doesn't," he pulled an audio tape out and held it in his hand, waving it back and forth in front of the ghosts face. "I made a recording of her voice so if she refuses to perform, I'll just drop her from the act...in to a pool of snark-sharks! HA-HA!" He sneered and cackled malevolently.

Beetlejuice's expression became dark, eyes flaring madly and teeth bared. "Lay even a finger of your goofy gloves on her and I'll juice that grinning mug of yours in to a permanent portrait of pain!"

Taken back for a moment, the clown regained his sly grin and moved behind the encased ghost, grabbing the handles of the rolling lift the box was seated on and pushing him behind one of the curtains to a small hidden and dark room with a screen. Scuzzo locked the wheels of the lift in place next to a standing camera before he inserted the film reel and pressed the play button. "The subliminal messaging and hypnosis spiral together puts anyone who hears and sees it under my control. After the final performance later, all the Neitherworld will be under my control thanks to my genius plan! HA-HA!"

The poltergeist rolled his eyes and scoffed. "Pfft, that ain't genius. That plan's been used by almost every other bad guy at least once. You're just copying old material you cheap, clichéd old party bag!"

Scuzzo slapped a stretched duck over his mouth that stuck to his face. "This duck tape should keep your big mouth shut. _Duck_-tape, get it? HA-HA!" He put on a pair of large black-lensed and orange-rimmed clown glasses while he took some smaller strips of tape and stuck them above and below the lids of Beetlejuice's eyes, making it so he couldn't close them; successfully forcing him to watch the screen as the black and white spiral began to spin and the song played. Within moments, the ghost's struggling began to cease and his eyes mimicked the swirl.

"I'll let you sit here for a while to clear your head. But it shouldn't take too long to empty _your_ head, HA-HA!" The clown prankster slapped his knee before plugging ear phones in to the projector and placing them over the ghost's head to silence the noise, walking back out behind the curtain and laughing all the way.

* * *

He exited the tent still laughing hysterically, but quickly stifled it at the sound of the female voice calling his name.

"S-Scuzzo!" Marcelyna called, sniffling as she hurried along the side of the tent to him.

"Oh, h-hey Doll-Face, what's wrong?" He asked, lessening his broad grin and putting his hands behind his back, trying to hide the fact that he was indeed hiding something from her.

The girl wiped her eyes, smudging her makeup slightly as she spoke in a choked voce. "_Sniff_, I-It's that, _Sniff_, that B-Beetle-JERK!" She let out an angered sob. "_Sniff_, I, I hate him! I never want to see him again!"

The clown's eyes widened in surprise, and not just because he was faking concern for her, he was shocked at her serious words and the fact that his plan was practically working itself. "I-It's okay Doll," He patted her shoulder in a comforting manner but it was still somewhat timid. After all, he wasn't sure he could fully trust her yet. "You don't have to see that worn-out loser again. You can join my crew and be a full-time part of our act."

She wiped away another tear and looked at him hopefully. "Really? I'd love to! I've always wanted a performing career!"

"That's great! How would like to be the Neitherworld's biggest star? You'll have fans in the millions dying all over again to see you perform!"

Marcelyna had clasped her hands together, holding them against her chest as she looked starry-eyed at his words. "It sounds like a dream come true!" She gasped, but her optimism slowly diminished as she tilted her head curiously. "But it sounds too good to be true. It can't just happen overnight."

Scuzzo shifted his eyes suspiciously. "If you wanna be part of the crew, can you keep a secret?"

She nodded her head, pigtails bobbing with her movement. "Mmh-hm." The clown waddled his way closer to her, cupping his hand over the side of his mouth as he whispered his plan in her ear. When he pulled back, the girl looked at him in awe. "Wow! That plan is genius!"

The clown let out a prideful laugh from having his ego stroked. "So you in?"

"Sure! Just let me spruce up a bit and fix my makeup and I'll meet you on stage." She gave an excited smile before pulling the curtain to go in to the tent.

"J-just don't take too long!" He shouted, a little nervous because Beetlejuice was currently being brainwashed not too far away. Then again, the girl had no idea of that and it wasn't likely that she would find the hidden room behind the inconspicuous curtain, so he waved it off.

Marcelyna sat on the stool in front of the mirror, fluffing the two unruly pigtails of hair and fixing her eyeliner carefully until she heard the loud shoes shuffle in departure and the large shadow was no longer imprinted on the exterior side of the tent.

She stood up quickly and moved further back in to the tent, feeling through the draped sheets of fabric blindly until her hand passed through one. Peering through, there was a dim light illuminating the room from a small screen that played a constantly turning black and white swirl. Just before the screen, she instantly recognized the head facing the screen.

Marcelyna quickly and quietly snuck behind the hidden curtain in the back of the tent. Making sure she hadn't been seen, she turned around to see the screen with the hypnosis swirl and Beetlejuice trapped in a body-sized rectangular box that encased him up to his neck.

Without hesitation she rushed to the ghost's side, unplugging the headphones out of the camera, letting the music play out loud while she moved to block his view from the screen, peeling the strange, stretched ducks from his face, looking at them curiously before tossing them and waved her hands in front of his eyes. "Beetlejuice! Snap out of it!"

But it was no use; the ghost's eyes continued to mimic the swirl as his mouth hung open, mumbling the same words mindlessly: "_Scuzzo's show's the greatest. Scuzzo's show's the greatest. Scuzzo's show's the greatest."_

Letting out a sound of frustration, she moved for the projector, quickly scanning over the buttons and switches until she found the one labeled STOP. Gritting her teeth, she pressed it repeatedly but the button was jammed and the film and recording continued to play.

"Argh!" Marcelyna frantically began pushing and flipping the controls randomly until the film strip snapped and spun swiftly around the wheel before turning counterclockwise as the monochrome spiral swirled in reverse and the lyrics of the song began to play backwards as the film unwound.

The spiral in the ghost's eyes started to diminish as his head lulled from side to side before shaking the hypnosis off. "Huh? Why do I feel like I have scum in my brain?...and not the good kind..." He gave an involuntary shudder, realizing his body was trapped in the box. "Wha-"

"Beetlejuice! You're okay!"

"Marce?" The ghost was surprised to see his living friend hurry to his side. "What's goin' on?"

"You were being hypnotized," she explained as she pulled a bobby pin from her hair and began to pick the lock on the side. "Scuzzo used my song and a hypnosis spiral to control you and now he plans to do the same thing to the entire Neitherworld after the next act!"

"Yeah!" His thoughts were slowly starting to piece together as he remembered his encounter with the clown that resulted in his current situation. "Wait, how'd you find out? That air-bag said he was gonna hurt you if ya didn't perform..." He glowered as he recalled Scuzzo's threat.

Marcelyna succeeded at breaking the lock, twisting the loop to pull the padlock off and sliding the bar of the cautionary latches on either side. "Besides singing, I know some acting too," she replied, opening the door so his body could float out before moving to peer back behind the curtain. "Coast looks clear."

Beetlejuice reached an arm behind his head and began to scratch it nervously, fumbling to find the right words to say. "Look Marce, about what I said and how I, erm, acted..."

"There's no time for that," she cut him off, going back to the projector and removing the audio tape from it before motioning for him to come closer which he complied, floating by her side as they passed through the curtain back in to the surrounding tent. "They're going to start broadcasting live soon so I have to get behind stage before Scuzzo suspects something."

"So what're we gonna do to stop it?"

Marcelyna began winding the strip back in to the audio tape as she talked. "He's going to play the hypnosis swirl on the screen behind me while I sing so you need to get to the projection and reverse it and play this tape backwards, that way it'll undo the audience already under control and prevent the new viewers from being hypnotized. Can you do it?" She asked, holding out the fixed tape to him.

Beetlejuice flashed his mischievous trademark grin. "Ghost with the most babes. I can do anything."

* * *

"Ggggooooooooooodddd evening Neitherworld viewers!" The announcer appeared on camera, preparing for the soon-to-be live broadcast. "This highly anticipated performance is taking the lead for best in show at the two-hundredth and forty-third annual Neitherworld Fair! The numbers of fans are fastly growing and the audience here at the grounds are packing the stands in groves for a show that'll leave you completely mesmerized!"

The camera zoomed in on the full seats of viewers, most of which were staring with wide, swirling eyes at the stage, mouths hanging open as they repeated: _"Scuzzo's show's the greatest,_" in unison like a mantra.

A small yellow car drove on to the center of the stage, the clown mastermind emerging from it with ease despite his much larger size. Scuzzo stood before the audience, waving at them as he began his address. "Good evening folks, it's me, Scuzzo, the Neitherworld's Greatest Entertainer! Tonight I'm proud to introduce our newest member as she performs her _hypnotic_ song for your enjoyment. It'll blow your mind! HAHA!" Pulling out a handkerchief from his pocket, he draped it over the car before pulling it back and with a poof of smoke, both the miniature car and the clown disappeared, leaving only a newly revealed Marcelyna in costume on stage holding a microphone as she was about to sing.

Scuzzo peered from the curtain behind the stage, clutching the fabric under his knuckles, waiting for her to start. "Come on Doll, what're you waiting for? And the projection should've started!" He growled through clenched teeth. He smashed his free fist on the large trunk next to him, pulling back as he heard a muffled noise come out from within.

"What the-?" He opened the lid, eyes widening in surprise as he saw one of his henchmen - specifically the one who was _supposed_ to be working the projection - tied up with snakes and gagged with a rat at the bottom of the trunk. "What's going on?!"

The captive let out a series of mumbles, trying to shift his head to point out and up. His boss seemed to get the gist of his motions, turning his attention away from the trunk and out past the stage, beyond the audience to where the projection room was. The light was on in the room and a shadow floated around, making Scuzzo grit his teeth and slammed the box shut, much to his henchman's dismay as he let out another series of distressed, smothered cries.

The clown stomped his way up the steps, elbows bent and arms stiff with a rather uncharacteristically angry frown. Reaching the halfway mark, he stopped to turn back to the stage, hearing a whining, high-pitched warble that sounded like a stuck tape. "NO!" His expression turned to horror as he realized the hypnosis swirl was turning backwards, making him now try to sprint the rest of the way up the remaining steps.

Bursting through the door, Scuzzo's eyes narrowed as they locked on the stripe-suited ghost messing with the audio switches. "YOU?!"

Beetlejuice gave a sheepish smile. "Who? Me?"

"Yes you!" He pointed a gloved finger trembling angrily at him.

The poltergeist shrugged. "Nooope sorry, don't know the guy." He pointed his thumb to the side. "Try next door."

The clown stomped his foot in rage, launching his 'sucker-punch' fist at him. "ARGH! Why don't you stay squashed Beetle-roach?!"

The ghost crawled over the fist, having transformed in to a black and white striped cockroach. "'Cuz the ghost with the most always bounces back!" He turned back to normal and pulled the solid fist further back, stretching the coil to the breaking point before letting it go to launch back at the owner, effectively punching him out the door. Beetlejuice floated horizontally, clutching his stomach and kicking his feet while bursting with laughter.

"Oh yeah?" the ghost stopped his cackling as a tube was forced in to his mouth. Scuzzo began pushing down on the handle of an air pump, making his head expand in to a round balloon-like ball. "You're just an air head that needs to be POPPED!" He gave one final hard slam of the lever, the air not able to force itself anymore and thus making the tube snap. A gust of wind blew out of the ghost's mouth as he began flying around the room, the clown slapping his knee and laughing at the sight until the poltergeist smashed right in to him; the two flying out the door together and after several loops and whizzing turns, crashed on to the floor of the stage.

Marcelyna had luckily moved out of the way in time, watching as a large lump moved around under Beetlejuice's stretched parachute-like head before finally finding an edge and crawling out. The ghost himself stretched out his arm, turning it in to a heat press and ironing it over his face. Once the cloud of steam cleared he sat up, rubbing his now normal sized head. "Uuoohh, talk about stretching the mind..."

Scuzzo looked out at the audience and gasped, realizing the hypnosis had worn off. "You ruined my show Beetle-_dead_!" The clown lunged at him, the two squabbling on the floor.

"I'm already dead, _circus-jerkus_!"

Scuzzo managed to trip the ghost down on to the floor with one of his large shoes, pulling out a bottle and shaking it. "Here, have some seltzer down your pants!" He turned the nozzle and the water instantly filled his trousers until it squirted out like fountains from his pockets. The clown laughed hysterically until interrupted by Beetlejuice's voice.

"Hey Scuzzo, why did the chicken cross the road?"

"Huh?" He looked up in time to see his opponent turn it to a rather large rubber chicken that instantly nailed him in the face, sending him back a few feet on the stage floor.

"To slap you _fowl_! HA-HA!" He turned back to normal, pointing and laughing.

"So you like slap stick, huh?" Scuzzo stood up, holding something behind his back as he snuck up on him. "Then you're going to love mine!" He swung a stick with a large wooden hand at him, but stumbled back as a custard pie nailed him square in the face, making him drop the prop.

The clown wiped the cream from his face, searching for the culprit.

"Nice shot Marce!" He heard Beetlejuice compliment, making his eyes land on the girl who held a second pie ready in her hand.

"Doll? B-But I thought...You said," he began to piece it together. "You tricked me!"

She weighted the dessert up and down in her hand. "You wanted a good performance, so I did my best acting."

The ghost pointed and laughed at his nemesis. "Ha-Ha! She got you good! Who's the loser now? Ha-H-!" His laughter was cut short as his head jerked back, blinking away the custard and cream from his vision to see Marcelyna dusting off her hands with a satisfied look.

"That's for earlier. Apology _now_ accepted."

The audience erupted in a fit of laughter and applause, not realizing this wasn't meant to be part of the show. The announcer appeared on camera, stifling his laughter and fixing his tie before speaking in to the microphone as he got up on the stage. "Well folks, now that's what I call a show! The entire Neitherworld is laughing and will be for quite some time! Congratulations, you've won best show at this year's fair!"

Both Beetlejuice's and Scuzzo's faces lit up, temporarily forgetting their hatred for each other and rushing up to the announcer's side.

"And here's your cash prize!" The surreal man reached in to his suit, the apprehension growing as the two pranksters awaited their prize. "Here you go."

Their faces froze momentarily before Scuzzo's grin drooped in to a disbelieving frown; Beetlejuice narrowing his eyes and looking dumbly at the outreached hand.

"...A lousy BUCK?! THAT'S IT?!"

The announcer shrugged. "It's a cash prize. We never said how much."

The angry ghost snatched the bill from his hand. "This is all I get?!"

"YOU?!" Scuzzo grasped the other end of the dollar, pulling it towards him. "It was _my_ talent that won best in show!"

"You call that talent? The bugs I eat are more entertaining than you, even _after_ I eat them!" He tugged it back in his direction but the clown wouldn't yield.

The announcer looked over to Marcelyna who stood to the side, arms crossed and watching the two fight. "You know, part of that prize is yours too."

She shook her head, sighing at their tug-of-war match. "It's not worth it."

"Loser!"

"Hack!"

Both opponents growled, their faces barely an inch away from each other as they glared daggers through one another. After a few more rough tugs, a tearing sound suddenly grabbed their attention, making them look down to see the dollar split; a half in either person's hand.

"Now look what you did Beetle-brain!"

"Me?! It was your fault big nose!" The two began fighting once again, throwing punches and insults while rolling around on the floor in a cloud of dust.

The announcer stood in front of the camera, the brawl still going on behind him. "This concludes the Two-hundredth and Forty-third Annual Neitherworld Fair. Goodnight Ghosts and Ghouls!"

The camera cut.

* * *

Groups of people walked around the now lighted booths and rides of the fair, many heading out to the field and lake for the fireworks. Marcelyna was one of them, walking alongside her Grandmother Delia and Grandfather Charles, all carrying fried dough and cotton candy as they made their way across the grass.

Picking seats on the flat ground, Charles licked his fingers clean of the powdered sugar as he finished his dough, somewhat disappointed when he realized there wasn't anything left. "I think I'm going to get some more before the fireworks start." He stood back up quickly, only to get yanked back by his wife.

"Charles! You've eaten three already, that's more than enough!" Delia scolded.

"But it's once a year dear, I can sneak it just this once!" He tried to reason.

"Don't think I don't know you sneak snacks when I'm not looking, Mister!"

Marcelyna took their fight as an opportunity to sneak away while they were distracted with arguing, climbing up the nearby hill to the top with her fried dough and rather uniquely striped cotton candy; sitting down by a tall fully-leaved tree, hidden in the dark by its shadow with only the light of the moon overhead.

"Is it safe?" Her spun-sugar treat spoke, a face suddenly appearing on one side.

Marcelyna looked down from her place on the hill, seeing a few of her grandmother's friends had sat next to her and begun chatting while Charles took advantage of the situation, much like she had, to sneak off and most likely head back for more confectionary goods. "Yeah, they won't notice I'm gone for a while."

The cotton candy suddenly disappeared from her hand and just as quickly, reappeared as a floating apparition barely a foot from her, eyes surveying from their view point. "Nice spot, babes."

The girl pulled the foil from her food, breaking off a piece of dough and offering it to him. "Want some?"

"Nah, I still got some of my own leftover." He pulled a stick with a fried foot on the end out from his jacket. "You wanna try?"

She gave a small smile, still amused by the punned food, even if it was rather disgusting. "No thanks, I'm good." She replied, taking a bite of her 'normal' fried dough.

Beetlejuice floated on his back just an inch above ground, bending a leg over his knee and putting a hand behind his head while munching on his fried toes. It remained silent between the two of them for a while, the ghost casually straying glances to look at her sitting cross-legged, eyes focused on the shadowed ground as she ate.

"Hey Marce, I really am sorry for earlier..."

She turned her head towards him momentarily, giving a weak smile. "It's okay, don't worry," She spoke before looking back out over the view.

The ghost shifted uncomfortably, still feeling a little guilty and wanting to brighten her mood. "I know, but I still can barely admit, I did deserve some payback, but a pie in the face? No one has ever done that without me seeing it coming. _Especially_ not on a live broadcast. So don't do it again babes. I don't like competition and can't afford to lose the title of 'ghost with the most.' Let's face it; 'human' or 'girl with the most' isn't nearly as catchy."

Marcelyna turned to him and couldn't help but chuckle incredulously. "You think _I'd_ replace you? Please! I don't think _anyone,_ living or dead, could even come close..."

"Seriously, you've got talent toots. I gotta watch my back around you now." His neck stretched out and curved, scrutinizing the back of his jacket. "Hey, I don't remember this stripe right here...did _you_ put it there?" He looked at her suspiciously which granted him a whole-hearted laugh as his head stretched back to its proper place.

A loud bang rang out, drawing their attention to the sky as a flash of light exploded and lit up the night.

"Maybe I did, but for now, let's just enjoy the show."


End file.
